Evaluate This!
by jonadark
Summary: Fudge orders that the students of Hogwarts undergo psyche evaluations. What will be revealed? And how will the students of Hogwarts cope when their darkest thoughts revealed? !AU! HGDM
1. Cousins, oh boy!

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**Evaluate This**

**Chapter 1**

**Cousins, Oh Boy!**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own HP Inc._**

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Ron rushed out into the street. Grateful to be out of there, he scowled at yet another heap of books in his arms.

Behind him, Harry and Hermione were, well…Hermione had been with them. Ron glanced up and down the crowded street. Had she gone in with them? He couldn't remember but he'd be damned if he'd go back into Flourish and Blots, even if she was his friend. That place would be the death of him—that, he was sure of.

"Where'd Hermione go off to?" Ron asked his remaining friend.

Harry shrugged, shifting uncomfortably the weight in his arms. His hair was longer, darker and thicker than it had been the year before. The length was due mainly to the reason that no one bugged him about its appearance anymore. The Weasley's didn't care much about his wayward hair—so unlike that of the Dursley's—and Harry was more than happy to leave his hair to its own accord.

"I think she mentioned something about having to get more ink."

"No, no," Ron scratched behind his ear thoughtfully. "We've gone to get ink twice this week already. As it is she has enough ink to pen _Hogwarts, A History_ a dozen times."

Harry grinned, his green eyes dancing with humor. "You're right."

Ron shrugged, shaking his head so that his hair could help take a bit of the glare away from his eyes. However, the strands of red hair did not dim the harsh light. "Bloody hot out here." He commented, tugging his baggy shirt way from his body.

"Ron!" Both boys turned around at the unfamiliar voice. Ron frowned slightly as he eyed the over-crowded street.

"That didn't sound like Hermione? Did it?"

"No, it wasn't." Green eyes surveyed the throng of people—Hermione wasn't among them. But a tourist group wearing 'Harry Potter's # 1 Fan' t-shirts were, and happened to be hurrying across the street. An unconscious frown appeared on Harry's face as he ducked behind Ron.

It was at times like this that Harry was glad that his scar was hidden by his overgrown hair. He was even more grateful that the Daily Prophet had yet to get a good photo of him recently—had they succeeded, Harry was sure that the group of Potter loving fanatics would have trampled him into the street trying to get at him.

It was almost sickening, Harry thought as he watched the Potter fan group disappear into a store. These people didn't know him; they didn't try to get to know him. They judged him, nothing more—just a bunch of busy bodies who were minding _his_ business.

Seeing the last of the fan group leave Ron took a deep breath. "It's too bloody hot out here, want to go?" Ron glanced at Harry.

Nodding, Harry glanced around once more for any sign of Hermione.

"Ah, let her go. She knows where we be if she wants to come 'round." Ron massaged his sore neck. "Have you noticed how often she just up and vanishes on us? I wonder if McGonagal took that time turner away from her."

Harry smiled. "Hermione wouldn't use it—it would be morally wrong or something." He glanced behind him as he made up his mind. "Lets go."

He started after Ron, not noticing the running figure and consequently collided with it. Harry plummeted face first into the coble stones, his books betraying gravity—for a second—before plummeting back to earth to hit the boy who lived on the head. "Bloody hell!" Harry's hands wrapped protectively around his head as the vengeful textbooks assaulted him.

"Oh my gosh!" Harry felt the slight brush of soft skin against his own. "Oh I'm so sorry. Here, oh jeez, I am sorry. Here." Dazed Harry watched the small girl rush about gathering his school supplies. "I am so sorry." She sighed, breathless, handing him his books back.

Rubbing the knot that was forming on the back of his head, Harry pushed himself to his feet. He eyed the books, just waiting for them to try that again, but they remained innocently still in the girls outstretched hands.

"Er, that's okay. No problem." Harry clumsily grabbed for his books—cursing his suddenly useless tongue.

Giving him a nervous grin the girl made sure he had a firm grip on them before she pulled away. She gave him another sheepish grin then set her hands comfortably on her hips. Harry noticed the way she looked at ease yet…he recognized the look, somewhere deep down he knew it was how he looked sometimes—ready to dart, ready to run.

Intrigued, he went back to her face. Her eyes were dark forest green edged in lime.

Weird, Harry thought, but it wasn't her eyes, it was her hair. Very weird. Her hair wasn't really one color, his brow wrinkled in thought. It couldn't possibly be natural, he decided, a person's hair could not be burgundy, ebony, honey, violet, and pale wheat all at once. She had skin a lively shade of ivory dusted gold and her lips…Harry shook his head stopping his evaluation of the girl right there and then. What the hell was he thinking?

"Miriam?" Ron's eyes grew round as he noticed the girl who held Harry's gaze.

"Oh Ron! It's been so long." Miriam broke eye contact with the dark haired boy and flung her arms around Ron, a brief hug. "My, you've grown little cousin!"

Ron blushed and stepped back, "I could say the same for you."

The smiling that went on seemed to last forever. Harry groaned. "Earth to Ron and Ron's cousin." Harry tapped his finger against his watch.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Oh impatient one, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Miriam DeLunic," Harry nodded. "Miriam, this is my best mate, Harry."

"Harry. That's a nice name. And I really am truly sorry for…bowling you over." Her smile was apologetic. "I'm a bit of a klutz. A hazard to all life." But her eyes did not hold true to her words…though Harry got the feeling that her being a hazard to life was all too true.

Wondering why his brain had decided to go on vacation, Harry could only nod.

Ron smirked. "Miriam is an American."

"You say it like it's a curse." Miriam eyed Ron coldly.

Blanching Ron's eye twitched nervously. "Er..."

Miriam laughed then, "Got you. You were always too easy." But the cold sheen of ice over her eyes did not leave even though her face was lit with merry amusement.

Ron grinned through his nerves. "What brings you to Britain, Mira?"

Linking arms with him, they began to walk. "Ugh. No one calls me Mira anymore Ronald."

"And no one but Hermione calls me Ronald."

They grinned at each other and Harry felt like the third wheel as he followed, picking up Ron's abandoned school supplies as well. He'd hex his friend later. Right now, it seemed, it was time for family catch-up.

"I was going to just show up here, unannounced, for summer…then…" Miriam's eyes darkened again. "Mom and Dad, they aren't doing so great." The buzzing heat of the air seemed to chill and Harry felt goosebumps on his arms. "So, I figured if they were going to send me away I'd just stay with my favorite cousins."

"Then you're going back to the states at the beginning of term?" Harry asked, causing the two to turn around suddenly—Harry got the feeling they'd forgotten he was there at all. Miriam waved her hand, dismissing the notion.

"I had an owl sent to Adamark and had them transfer me to Hogwarts. I have to go through the, um, what is it called…" she paused, pensive. "Sorting, that's it. We didn't do such a thing at Adamark. It is all so different. I love it."

Her grin was contagious, but Harry had couldn't stop the nagging feeling that she wasn't…wasn't…something. There was something dark about her and he couldn't help but notice Ron's expression, which bordered on the edge of worry.

"Well would you look at the time? I have to be going. It was so good to see you Ron! I can't wait for this year to begin. It is going to be wonderful. It was nice to meet you Harry." Miriam quickly hugged Ron, and with a whirl was gone before either could react.

"Are you okay Ron?"

"Aye, um…food. I need food." Ron stammered.

"Well if you're in no mortal peril, take these before I dump them in the gutter." They exchanged books before taking off in the direction of the Inn they were staying at.

He couldn't help the quick backwards glance as they left, but Ron's cousin was no longer around. Harry shook his head, confused. It had been an almost normal meeting and the following conversation hadn't been all that strange on his scale…then why did he feel like something was dreadfully wrong?

* * *

Hermione's elbows were propped up on the table and she continued to glower. "What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked tersely.

Across from Hermione, Charlotte sat with her legs crossed and her head held high. She tossed her long golden hair and glowered back at Hermione with menace.

"I think you know right well what I mean. I didn't come here on some vacation, I came here for you-know-what and you…" she lowered her voice. "You aren't going to be able to run off so easily this time. You know it, I know it, if you'd just accept it…" Her voice trailed off into a hiss as the bartender came to their table.

"Can I get you ladies a drink?"

"No, but you can bugger off." Charlotte whispered, her voice a hazard to all mortals.

The man did just that—obviously valuing his life.

"That," Hermione said stiffly, "was completely uncalled for."

"Say what you will, but I do _not_ put up with crap…from anybody."

Icily Hermione looked away. "Present company included I presume."

"Of course…cousin." The smile gracing Charlotte's lips was anything but pleasant. It made Hermione's skin crawl and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Making people squirm put Charlotte in a jovial mood. Lifting a small object from the confines of her purse she placed it into Hermione's open palm. "I know how you feel, damn it, I felt it too. But, I am here for you this time. You won't be alone."

Hermione clutched the object, her fist closing with anger. "Like that is any improvement. You know, I didn't ask for this. You and…"

"Don't curse family, Hermione." Charlotte warned softly.

Hermione bowed her head and watched through her lashes as Charlotte stood and left the table. She waited for the dull thud of the door before she pulled her hand towards her. Hermione unfolded the pitch-black silk and stared at the pendent that connected her to her cousin—Charlotte.

She knew she was scowling, but she didn't care. Charlotte managed to wipe every happy thought from her mind and replace it with the quiet anger she'd been trying to hide.

"Why me?" Hermione whispered to no one. Her booth was empty now and she preferred it this way.

She could still remember the shock she'd received when she'd spotted the cold blonde through the storefront window in Flourish and Blots. Hermione had been hell bent on ignoring her and had even decided that she'd imagined the whole thing—that was, until she'd been roughly jerked away from her friends. It's hard to believe something to be a figment of the imagination when you're being physically dragged.

She'd come to terms with the fact that Charlotte was here quickly—however…Hermione glared at the pendant in her hand. She wouldn't be coming to terms with _that_ anytime soon.

And Charlotte wouldn't be leaving until she did.

It was a lose lose situation.

Hermione sighed; she'd figure something out. Something.

* * *

Miriam settled back into the small room she'd booked. She could have stayed with her cousins…but she preferred it this way. Her eyes surveyed the room. The pale wallpaper reminded her of better days, the faded carpet of past lives, the dim lights of a time she'd tried very hard to forget.

Families fall apart for many reasons.

Sometimes it's a mutual separation, usual involving no children, just the want of freedom. Sometimes it's something stupid—cheating.

And sometimes…sometimes it was loss.

Miriam shut her eyes, blocking out the room, and curled under the sheets of the bed. She knew the box was in the second drawer of the dresser, locked with magic and key. She wanted so desperately to walk over there, to open the drawer, to take out the box. She'd just let the memories fold over her, take her over.

All's she had to do was get up, walk over, and ask for forgiveness.

From herself.

Miriam didn't move, instead she rolled into a tight ball and waited for the dreamless sleep that she knew would come.

And she knew it would be dreamless.

She'd made sure of that.

As she began to fade into the darkness she saw the shy smile of a raven-haired boy…

* * *

Cursing the stubbornness that obviously ran in the family, Charlotte settled herself outside the diner. How could anyone be so dense when it was rumored they were so smart?

Charlotte eyed the idiots hurrying up and down the street. Was there really any point to any of it?

She caught site of the boy as he wandered aimlessly down the road. Stupid git, Charlotte thought even as she eyed him. His hair was white blond and…where had she heard about someone just like him?

He came closer and Charlotte could feel his nasty mood boiling off of him. She frowned when his eyes met hers. They were gray…blue gray.

Charlotte didn't like the smirk that formed on his face. No doubt he thought he swooned every girl under forty that came his way and…Charlotte observed the stupid twits that were practically falling over themselves as he passed…he was right.

But that wasn't going to be her. He gave her a charming smile as he went by and Charlotte gave him the finger, a smile lighting her face at his confused jolt.

Yeah, muse on that…she thought as he disappeared into the diner.

Hermione turned the pendent over and over in her hand, running her fingers over the engravings. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the slight tremble in her hands. Hermione Granger did _not_ tremble because of some stupid…curse.

"No." she whispered. Standing, she shook her hair out of her face. She wasn't going to have any of this. For once, her heart and her head were in complete agreement. Charlotte could deal with the family curse all by her dear little self. Merlin knew she had attitude enough for two people. Satisfied with her decision Hermione smirked.

And that was all it took for Draco Malfoy to stop dead in his tracks. It took another two seconds for him to realize who it was he was ogling—Granger, the famous mudblood. What was with the females today? First he encountered the less than pleasant witch outside this establishment and then he ran into a deranged looking Granger. Draco pondered it for a few more moments before dismissing it altogether. He really did not care one way or another. And as far as he was concerned, the expression on Granger's face was an improvement.

Though…Draco took another look despite himself and retracted his previous statement. Self- righteous did not suit Granger, he decided. It made her look demonic more than anything…do I look like that? Draco made a mental note to check next time he was in front of a mirror.

"What are you staring at Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a voice so distant from her normal one. Charlotte really did manage to put her in a foul mood. A very foul mood, Hermione realized as she unconsciously took a challenging step forward.

First reaction when being approached by a mudblood—back away slowly. Second reaction—sneer. Third—was to definitely not wonder what scent she wore. But that was exactly what was floating through the stunned Malfoy's mind as Granger confronted him. He didn't think she'd done anything as rash since she'd punched him their third year. And because of that he had to check his impulse to back up and out of harms way.

Again his muddled mind returned to what she smelled like…odd how things like this happen. It wasn't like anything he'd smelled before, and it didn't try to strangle him like that of one Pansy Parkinson.

Damn mudblood, of course his present thoughts were her fault. Draco took control of his flyaway brain. And about time too, a small voice said in the back of his mind. Granger looked ready to charge.

"Take your anger elsewhere Granger." Draco growled and took a side step to avoid her, sitting down at a table.

Hermione stood stunned and if she'd been in a rational mood she would have left—immediately—however…Merlin forgive her, she was looking for a fight, and how nice of Malfoy to offer.

"Now the infamous Malfoy plays civil. Does it hurt?"

Draco looked up at the heated Gryffindor in confusion. "What is your problem Granger?"

But Hermione ignored him, content to continue the long time coming rant. "Way to go Malfoy, I wonder, did you take acting classes over the summer? Or did you grow up? Or my personal favorite, actually find your humanity?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco tapped his fingers impatiently along the table. "Done yet?"

Now Hermione was seething. "No! I'm not done yet. You are a pathetic, horrid, ugly, disgusting…"

Steel gray eyes, cold and hard, bore into hers cutting off the insult. "Do you want to fight?" His voice was chocolate smooth, a hint of venom.

She paused, she knew better. "Yes." She whispered.

Damn it, Hermione thought. "Charlotte." She murmured as she thought of all the colorful ways she could curse her as Malfoy rose from his chair and turned. Hermione watched him walk to a door near the back and hold it open for her—a smirk playing on his face.

"You know, Granger, I took you to be smarter than this." Draco drawled as he closed the door behind her.

"And you believe I have made a mistake, Malfoy?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Draco looked thoughtful for a second before he nodded. "Indeed I do." He whispered, coming closer. "Granger." He hissed into her ear.

Hermione's rage flared. What had she gotten herself into? "You, ferret? You think too highly of yourself." And without another thought she swung at him, her fist wishing to crush that Roman nose into his face. She wanted blood.

Draco caught her hand, his strong fingers wrapping around her slender wrist. With his other hand, he drew her closer. "I could break your wrist, right now, with just. One. Twist." He twisted ever so slightly and saw the fire drain from her eyes as reason and pain reached the still functioning part of her brain.

"But, I won't." Hermione paled as he placed a hand on her back. "Yet." Draco whispered into her ear.

Trembling, Hermione tugged at her hand, but he held it fast. "I hate you." She whispered. "You are disgusting."

Draco smirked in her face. "Ah, you hurt my feelings, mudblood, now you're going to have to apologize." Hermione brought her free hand to hit him, but unfortunately he caught it.

"Don't." he whispered. "Try that again. Or I will hurt you." With that he brought his lips to hers. It was soft and sweet—the cruelest of all tortures.

Hermione shuddered. Malfoy had kissed her, he was a Slytherin, and… she was brought back to earth with the realization that she still had the pendant clasped tightly in her hand. Oh Merlin! If he saw it…Hermione banished the thought. That couldn't happen. That wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let him. The only problem with that was that the pendent was clamped tightly in her hand—the hand that Malfoy had complete control over.

She'd thought that her heart rate had spiked with the kiss, now it threatened to send her into a panic attack. She closed her eyes and bit her lip unconsciously—hoping for the best. You really are stupid; she thought…all you had to do was walk away. Walk away.

The door opened. Malfoy looked up in annoyance.

"Hermione, I…" Charlotte stopped and stared—that was about all she could do. It's not every day you walk in on your prim cousin in the arms of a man, a boy rather—a certain blond haired boy. Charlotte remembered him from the street, the one who she'd flicked off. A smile wanted to tug at her lips as she saw that he recognized her as well.

Draco couldn't believe his damn luck. He'd gotten Granger alone in a room—given, he hadn't meant to kiss her, but…

"And just who might you be?" Charlotte demanded as she closed the door behind her and took several steps toward the two.

Draco slowly loosened his grip on Hermione, but kept his hold on her wrist tight. "And just what business is my name of yours? You were not invited in here."

Charlotte didn't move. She only stared at the insolent boy, finally letting her eyes drift to Hermione. Damn. "I don't particularly care about you, little boy." Draco's eyes narrowed. "But, I do care about my cousin, who _you_ have no business touching."

"Cousins, eh?" Draco sneered. No wonder, they both had personalities of a cactus. The fiery blond had basically told him to fuck himself for no reason and Granger had attacked him for no reason—definitely family resemblance there. But in appearance, Draco gave the cousin a once over. There were absolutely no resemblances in that category.

"Malfoy let go." Hermione whispered softly as she took a deep breath trying to keep herself and her voice from trembling.

"Not right now Granger, I'll deal with you in a moment." First he had to get the blonde nuisance to leave. He wasn't sure what he wanted with Granger, but right now, he knew he didn't want her cousin here.

"You could do us both a favor and leave." Draco stated simply. If she were smart, she'd do so.

Charlotte could see she wouldn't get anywhere with the thickheaded boy. "Hermione, who is this?"

"Malfoy." Hermione replied, gritting her teeth.

"And does this Malfoy have any reason to be holding you?"

"No." Now she glowered at Charlotte. "Damn it, Malfoy, if you don't let go, I am going to curse you or have Charlotte do it for me."

That was when Charlotte noticed the slight fear in her cousin's eyes. Oh how dandy, she thought, Hermione's gone and gotten herself in trouble—besides the trouble of being in a room with a guy she wouldn't trust with a ten foot broomstick. She glanced back at the blond boy then at Hermione.

"Malfoy," Charlotte tossed her hair. "Unless you wish to have your testicles fall off, I think you had better let go." She grinned as he paled and let go as ordered.

It wouldn't have mattered even if he hadn't. Charlotte was quite sure, that if this blond haired boy had seen what was in Hermione's hand, a testicle falling off would be the least of his worries.

Hermione stuffed her hand into her pocket and withdrew it, empty.

Crisis passed, Charlotte thought. "I had something to say, maybe it was an apology, but, I'd say, it is no longer needed." She stood straighter and turned to leave, looking over her shoulder. "I will see you at school cousin."

"I hate you." Hermione whispered. Knowing exactly what had happened.

Charlotte turned, her eyes glowing. "I hate you too. I shall be seeing you." With that, she left, letting the door close deafeningly behind her.

Draco smiled broadly. "Well in that case. I hate you three." He reached forward gripping Hermione lightly—unsure if he was doing this for himself or to piss her off—and placed a farewell kiss on her lips. "You had better get used to me Granger. I'm going to be closer than you think this year."

Hermione stepped back as he left her alone, she ran her tongue over her lips, was it her imagination or did she taste vanilla?

* * *

"Hey! Where'd you disappear to?" Ron asked as he stuffed a large fork full of potpie into his mouth.

Hermione tried not to groan. "Eat with your mouth closed Ronald."

Ron grimaced. "Back to Ronald are we?" he asked with a sparkle in his eye.

Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm. "I was parched from the heat and needed to rest someplace cool. Sorry for leaving like that but…but, I felt…sick." Hermione finished lamely.

"That's okay. You only missed meeting me cousin. Miriam." Ron managed between mouthfuls of food.

"Your cousin?"

"Yeah, she's an American."

Harry laughed. "Why do you feel the need to point that out? She's not completely outlandish or anything." Harry paused. "Not that I'd think that American's are outlandish or something. It's just, I don't know. Don't it seem like a long way to travel? An entire ocean!"

"She almost killed you Harry. I wonder if that was her fault or yours. You never have been very observant."

"Hey! She said she's clumsy. Don't chalk that up to being my fault. All's I did was follow you and I was suddenly face down on the ground being attacked by my books!"

"Your books attacked you?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"Metaphorically." Harry added, his face hinted at the worry he felt. His friend didn't look herself—her normal sharp-as-a-tack self. Instead, she looked, well, to be short, she looked lost. "Nothing literal like the monster book of monsters. Anyway, I thought she was rather nice."

Ron shrugged, his eyes studying his plate, missing the exchange going on between Harry and Hermione.

"What do you mean? Rather nice—that sounds like you're not too sure if she was or wasn't." Hermione asked as she set aside her own fork. Food really wasn't the thing on her mind at the moment.

Harry thought for a second. "Well, okay, I'll admit she's somewhat odd. But I don't think that's because she's American. She's just got a…strong personality. I guess you'd be right, Hermione. I really don't know if she was nice or not. Just…odd. I liked it."

"Oh. Well, that's nice." Hermione sipped the pumpkin juice in her goblet, stifling a yawn. Harry wanted to smack her—she wasn't being her usual perceptive self, and he couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. "Is she going to be attending Hogwarts?"

"Seems so." Ron said as he finished. "Don't know why exactly. She…she. Well, whatever, people change I suppose." Ron got up, pushing his plate away. "I'm rather tired, I'll see you tomorrow." With that he ascended the stairs, leaving them alone.

Hermione looked to Harry. "What's up with him?"

Harry shook his head. "I really have no idea. I get the feeling that he doesn't exactly like his cousin very much."

"You could say that again."

"What?"

Hermione berated herself for a moment. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm just…" she yawned. "Very tired. I guess it's best we get to bed. We have to get on the train tomorrow."

"I can't wait to go back Hermione." Harry murmured happily, a far away look in his eye.

Hermione smiled and laid her hand on his shoulder. "I know Harry. Hogwarts is home."

Harry smiled, his green eyes pleased. "Home."

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A/N: Please Review...


	2. I Must Be Dreaming

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**Evaluate This**

**Chapter 2**

**Must Be Dreaming**

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The train was full of boisterous students and seemed impossibly crowded. Harry couldn't believe the over stuffed compartments they'd passed in search of one of their own. 

However, even they had not been able to find a lonely compartment for three. Instead, the trio found themselves sharing with three strangers seated snugly across from them.

Miriam DeLunic was the only one who Harry recognized. She sat across from him, a slight frown on her face and her eyes distant. His own eyes settled on the window where he observed the rain drenched moors as they passed. The scene drew a soft smile to his lips—peaceful. The rain was graceful…almost calming.

Leaning back he turned his attention to the other two passengers. One, who had introduced herself as Gwen Mason, was asleep. Next to her and across from Ron sat Charlotte Von'Holt, her blond hair braided and twisted into an unattainable knot upon her head. She was staring—had been staring at his ever increasingly red-faced friend. Harry sensed the uncomfortable squirming and couldn't help the small smile. Though he pitied his friend, Harry couldn't be gladder that that gaze was not directed at him.

Hermione tensed beside him and Harry gave her a worried look, but she shrugged him off. She was finding it hard not to laugh at the blushing Ron. Charlotte was the best she knew when it came to making one uncomfortable. Even one Draco Malfoy would be at a loss.

Ron coughed. "Um…" His eyes did a quick round about the compartment, dashing here and there trying in vain to ignore the staring female across from him. "So, er, where you from anyways?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "I mean, um, er…" Ron was assaulted by the not-so-pleasant smile that graced her pale features.

He blanched as she leaned forward an inch.

"Ron, right?" he nodded automatically. "Well, Ron, I'm not one for conversation and…" she admired her nails. "I'd like to keep it that way. Is that all right with you?" It wasn't a question. But Ron being Ron missed that. Hermione couldn't help but close her eyes at his naïve-ness as he answered.

"Uh, okay." The awkward silence settled in on them again.

"Are you really related to her?" Harry whispered as the staring match continued—a one sided staring match that is. Ron looked ready to bolt. Hermione nodded slightly turning to Harry.

"Unfortunately. We are."

"And Ron thought his cousin was bad." Harry murmured observing the stoic and staring Charlotte. "Is she always like that?"

Wrinkling her nose Hermione nodded yet again. "Never seen her any other way. She was just born with that lovely disposition. Nice huh?"

"For a dementor."

Hermione grinned as she leaned back. Getting comfortable in a stuffed compartment was not easy she decided as she rested her head.

"Do you suppose we'll be there soon?" The voice broke through the silence.

Harry looked to the window. "Suppose we will. Anxious?"

Miriam's eyes brightened a bit. "It is a new school after all. I think most everyone gets the bug."

"Bug?" Ron gratefully turned his attention to the less hostile environment of the left side of the compartment.

"Like an itch, Ron." She searched for another word. "Anticipation."

"Oh."

"You'll like it. Hogwarts is like a home to most of us." Hermione stated as she crossed her legs. "If you need to know anything you can always ask me, I've read—"

"_Hogwarts, A History_ fifty zillion times."

Hermione huffed at the laughter in her friends' faces.

"Well, at least I know…"

"We weren't making fun of you Hermione." Ron tried to head off the storm he could tell was brewing beneath her ruffled exterior.

"Not at all." Harry smiled lovingly at her. "We'd all be lost had you not read that book."

"Yeah! Think about it, we'd…" Ron stopped, unsure exactly what her knowledge of Hogwarts had helped them with.

Hermione laughed. "I get it. Don't hurt yourself Ronald."

Ron moaned. "Not back to Ronald again."

The conversation died, leaving the six occupants in uncanny discomfort.

The knock on the door echoed dully through the silence. Ron sighed. "Not another one." Yanking the door open he glared into the hall. "We're full." He said curtly, rushing now to close the door.

But the tall figure had already stepped slightly inside.

"You couldn't pay me to sit here, Weasley." Draco sneered at the blushing red boy. "But I do wonder how you and scar head seem to keep such company. Must be a glamour." Observing the four females along with the two Gryffindors.

There was, of course, Granger and her annoying cousin…who at the moment was too busy staring at the Weasel to pay him any attention. The other two he hadn't seen before.

"Sod off Malfoy." Harry reached for his wand.

"Save it, Potter, I actually have some business here." But he took his dear old sweet time with it. "Seems Hogwarts is being overrun with…"

Harry and Ron stood abruptly. "Finish that sentence Malfoy and lose your tongue." Ron threatened, his wand outstretched.

"You think you scare me Weasley? With that piece of wood, I'd fear an ant before I'd fear you and your pathetic abilities." Draco let his eyes linger on Hermione. She'd yet to change into her school robes, it somewhat shocked him to see her out of the customary black. Color was almost foreign to him—he didn't get much time to appreciate it though.

Miriam pushed her way past Harry, her own wand pointed at the blond who was insulting _her _cousin. She couldn't have that; she'd reserved all insulting rights for herself. "And what exactly makes you qualified to call Ron pathetic, you low, slum-eating cockroach?" Temper had gotten the better of her, raw and explosive…a temper many never saw the full strength of.

"Actually we've become partial to calling him ferret, but cockroach seems to fit him better." Harry managed through gritted teeth.

The silence stretched out between them. It seemed that Malfoy was actually heeding the words of Miriam.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Hermione asked, before all hell could break loose. Thank goodness the sleeping girl wasn't witnessing this—on her first day of Hogwarts. Sleep was a sanctuary Hermione wished he had.

Draco, serious now, turned his attention to Hermione. "The Heads were supposed to meet in their compartment, well…" he glanced at his watch. "About ten minutes ago actually. Can we go now? Or do I have to wait for you're body guards to check that the coast is clear and all?"

Hermione paused for a second. How could she have forgotten? Her first day as Head Girl and she was already slacking on her duties. "I forgot." She motioned to Harry and Ron to lower their wands. "He's right, I was supposed to go there. Sorry guys." She maneuvered out of the compartment.

"See you later Potter." Draco sneered as he slid the door shut. He turned to Granger who looked a little more than upset. She was only late, no big deal. "Now, to our compartment." Gently taking Granger by the arm he guided her down the hall.

There must have been a roll in the carpet. Hermione toppled over—embarrassed that her fall to earth had been brought up short by one Draco Malfoy…and the fact that there was no roll in the carpet. "Ou…our…" she swallowed, bringing herself upright and a step away from the Slytherin. "Our compartment?"

Draco fingered a silky wave of her hair. "I told you I had a surprise for you, mudblood." He watched in satisfaction as the temper flared in her eyes. "Now, now." Malfoy laid a finger on her lips. "I am sure you have some choice words to say to me, however, I wouldn't want you to say them just yet." He felt her tremble as he traced her lips with his finger. "It would be such a waste of..."

Hermione jerked away. "You are insufferable."

"So I've been told." He leaned against the wall. "Anything else you'd like to inform me of?"

All she could do was turn her back and walk away. Hermione tried not to notice the feeling of being watched, observed…studied. A shiver rolled down her spine.

Draco was indeed doing all the above. He couldn't help but wonder how something so simple was so intriguing. The inner battle was one of confusion and drilled facts of life.

Fact one: He was a bloody Malfoy.

Fact two: Bloody Malfoy's did not admire Gryffindors, mudbloods, or Grangers.

Fact three: He was doing just that.

Cursing himself he stopped, his gray eyes lowering to floor and that was the _only_ thing he watched until they arrived at their compartment door.

The inside compartment was larger than the one she'd just left—but not by much. The company had certainly gone down in appeal. She slumped into a seat, glad that Malfoy chose the opposite side.

"Why do I have to be here?"

"Why Granger, you are the one who is so set upon formalities and rules. It is a tradition."

Hermione ignored him seeing the Witch Weekly between them she used it as her escape.

* * *

Ron had settled back into his seat and he looked gratefully to Miriam. "Thanks for doing that back there." He put his wand away. "Malfoy is such a git. I really feel sorry for Hermione, having to be stuck in a compartment with him." 

Charlotte eyed the red head. "What do you mean?"

Harry leaned back, taking advantage of the room. "Draco Malfoy is a death-eater-in-the-making, a conceited pureblood, and practically the soul individual responsible for tormenting Hermione and the rest of us."

Her eyebrow rose and Charlotte smiled, a small chuckle escaping. "You really think so? Eh, well, I wouldn't be too worried about Hermione. I'm sure she can handle him."

"What do you mean by that? Hermione can handle Malfoy?"

Charlotte crossed her legs and tucked a stay hair behind her ear. Fingering the pendent around her neck she looked the two boys over. "Seems to me, that guys are as dense as ever. You'd think that you'd be able to find one that wasn't such a blockhead. But…" she sighed. "I guess not." Her smile was beautiful, beautiful as cut glass and just as dangerous.

Miriam giggled. "I agree with you on that one."

"Of course you do. We girls, we aren't so dense as them. It is quite obvious to us."

Exchanging annoyed and confused glances Ron and Harry eyed the two consorting females. "You wouldn't want to fill us _blockheads _in now would you?" Harry asked irritated.

"Yeah! A clue in the right direction would be nice." Ron added.

Charlotte sneered at the red head. "You really are a blockhead. I don't think I've met anyone who's had less of a brain."

Ron looked shocked and waited expectantly for Harry or Miriam to come to his defense. Nothing came. "Oh, that's nice. Pick on the little guy why don't you."

"Ron, dear, you don't exactly qualify as 'little'."

Folding his arms Ron leaned back in a huff. Fine, if they wanted to be that way, he'd just…think about food.

"As it is, I don't think it's my responsibility to tell you as it's none of your business." Charlotte settled back into her seat. "If you really want to know…" Her fingers ran unbidden over her pendant. "You can ask Hermione. I'm sure she'd tell you. If you asked nicely."

"Right, Hermione would sooner have teeth pulled."

"Mhmm."

Ron watched the slim fingers brush over the necklace. It hung on a long chain that she'd looped twice so that the pendant hung in the hallow of her throat. Her fingers ran over the stone, garnet Ron believed, and traced the silver etchings.

To him it was nothing more than a pretty piece of jewelry.

To Charlotte, the garnet stone was a star fallen from the sky. All the power of the cosmos was confined in the burning stone. Her fingers tingled and stung as she touched it. Fire and thorns. It was only a part of something greater.

Power contained by magic and bound to be beautiful.

The halting train arrived at the Hogwarts platform with a jolt. First years were unloaded and ushered towards the lake by the giant Hagrid as the others made their way to the horseless carriages—hurrying for the rain was soaking them through.

* * *

The Great Hall beckoned them with the promise of warmth and food. 

Hermione sat slightly wet, among her fellow Gryffindors and watched as the sopping wet puddle of first years were sorted. Not only were there first years, but an unusual amount of transfers. Many of who were in or near their last year of schooling.

That was odd, Hermione thought, it had to be a bugger to change schools your last year. But the oddness did not end there.

As the sorting progressed, so did the unease in the Great Hall. The house tables were eerily quiet—all but one.

Hanna Colmier became a Ravenclaw and Mary Stewert became a Slytherin. Angie Blatt became a Gryffindor and Sheryl McKee another Ravenclaw.

Sierra Knot became a Slytherin and Terrence Low as well.

Tom Seymour became a Slytherin and Anna Gabet and Sam Lawrence…

Ron's cousin was next and Ron seemed to whiten as the sorting hat was placed on her head. His hands clasped tightly together as he bit down on his lip.

"Slytherin!"

Ron jerked but his face was not filled with surprise. Hermione laid her hand on top of his and gave it a small squeeze. She didn't let go though for the next name that was called was none other than her cousin. Charlotte.

Hermione gripped Ron's hand tightly. Everything slowed, taking minutes instead of seconds. Hermione just wanted it to be over.

"Slytherin!"

She'd expected no less. Hermione let out her breath and watched Charlotte join the crowded table of gleeful yet confused Slytherins.

"I must be dreaming." Harry whispered. "Is it just me, or did half of everyone up there go to Slytherin?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't think that happens often."

"It shouldn't happen at all." Hermione heard Sean hiss from down the table. "This is just plain wrong."

Hermione couldn't disagree with him.

The student body was quiet as Dumbledore stood. They'd all managed to do the calculations in their head. As it was Gryffindor had gained five students, Hufflepuff thirteen, Ravenclaw had been graced with eleven and the most hated house of all had taken twenty-seven.

Twenty-seven. It was almost unbelievable.

Rumors and murmurings of the past year soon spread like wild fire through the students.

"Do you think it's true? He's…he's come back?"

"No explanation."

"Trying to get as many death eaters in as possible."

Many students turned to stare at Harry.

Harry could feel the stares, the expectations, and the fears. He couldn't very well hide behind Ron here, but he did the next best thing.

Hmm…a gold plate! Wonderful, always liked plates, so pretty, look at that gleam! Harry blocked out the murmurings and turned his full attention on the pretty gold plate in front of him. It was silent, didn't move, didn't look, didn't blink—it was an inanimate object and Harry thanked it for being such.

"Your attention please." Dumbledore's voice rang through the hall, the silence prompt. If the student populace had been stunned by the results of the sorting, they were shocked senseless by the headmaster's speech.

"First I'd like to welcome you all to the beginning of yet another year at Hogwarts." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I am sure that this year will be—most different. But that you shall see in a moment. I am proud to say we've a fortunate number of transfers this year. I can't seem to recall such a number accruing before. We are most privileged to have students from all over the globe attending. I hope you will all do your part to make them feel welcome as they very much are." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Now, for the peculiar circumstances that you students are being presented with this year."

Dumbledore unfolded a long scroll and began to read. "By order of the Ministry of Magic, the students of Hogwarts will partake in a series of psychological evaluations and stress inducing events." The Headmaster smiled. "Like you guys aren't already under tremendous stress as it is." He winked and the students laughed politely—unsure to what exactly was going on.

"These evaluations will be done at the discretion of the appointed psychiatrists and should take no less time than a semester." Setting the scroll aside, Dumbledore motioned to two figures at the table. "Each of you will be seen by either Mr. McGale who is seated to my left here."

The man Dumbledore indicated was short and hobbit-like. His eyes were close set and his hair stood in tuffs. He was dressed in robes of fine silk.

The students looked at him in disgust. He seemed akin to Snape. And no one found the potions master all that endearing.

Dumbledore then indicated a thin woman further down the table. Her hair was tightly bound into a harsh knot at the nape of her neck. She was lean and tall and sat ramrod straight in her chair. She wore no robes, but instead a suit, black, the exact shade as her eyes.

"Those of you who do not see Mr. McGale will be seeing Ms. Danna. Their findings, the results of each evaluation…" Dumbledore tried to keep the smile off his lips. "Will be posted for the public, again…" Dumbledore assured as a cry of protest began. "By order of the Minister of Magic."

He winked at the students. "And you all know that the Ministry has your best interests at heart. Let the feast begin!"

The hall was quiet for a millisecond before the chaos broke loose. Shouts and howls echoed off the walls—the entire thing was preposterous, ludicrous, outrageous…

"Pointless." Hermione said stiffly as the food appeared.

"It does mean no classes Hermione." Harry said as he served himself. Heaping the food onto his plate.

"I would rather have classes than…than…" Hermione stabbed a potato with her fork and started flinging it in anger. "Do you know how completely idiotic this all is? You should know about psychiatry…I wouldn't expect this idiot here to, but you!"

Hermione jabbed the potato at Ron, but kept her eyes on Harry.

"Yeah, you have a point."

Ron swallowed. "Why do I get the feeling you are making fun of me?"

"Because they were mate!" Dean clasped his hand on Ron's shoulder. "And they're right you know. You are a bit clueless."

"To what?" Ron asked, clueless.

"EVERYTHING!"

Hermione decided right then that she'd have to explain everything in slow excruciating detail.

And she did just that.

* * *

A/N: Please Review... 


	3. Strange Things Abound

* * *

**Evaluate This**

**Chapter 3**

**Strange Things Abound**

* * *

"They can't be serious!" Ron exclaimed as they walked to Gryffindor tower, Harry at his side. "I don't need no bloody psychologist telling me I'm nutty, I've got plenty of family for that!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You got nothing to worry 'bout, Ron. You aren't the one who has visions and dreams of Voldermort."

Ron shuddered. "Do you have to say that name?"

"Fear of a name only heightens fear of the thing itself, darling." Charlotte had followed them and now she laid a hand on Ron's shoulder, giving him her most winning smile—watching his defenses lower. Seeing him relax she lowered her voice to whisper in his ear. "Voldermort."

Ron's resulting scream had Harry bent over, his insides clenching in laughter induced pain.

Ron glowered. "Aren't you supposed to be going to the Slytherin dungeons?"

Harry glanced around. If Charlotte had followed them, maybe Miriam had as well…

"Right behind you."

Harry spun around his heart rate spiking.

"Didn't mean to scare you." Miriam whispered. "I have such trouble when it comes to that. That and being a klutz."

"Downright gave me a heart attack." Harry muttered.

Miriam shrugged. "Better than the lobotomy Charlotte there has planned for dear Ron." She inclined her head towards the two.

"He'll never learn."

"Nope. But…" she shook her head. "He's family. And I need to have a word with him."

Harry watched Miriam pulled Ron aside—shooting Charlotte a knowing glance. Her expression, however, was grave when she turned back to Ron. He wondered if it was a coincidence that both Miriam and Charlotte were in Slytherin. The whole thing was just odd. Interestingly odd, mind you but…maybe the sorting hat was coming down with a cold. Harry snorted, laughing out loud.

Charlotte looked at him, distracted. "Harry, do you know where the Heads dorm is? I was asking…" she looked pointedly at Ron. "Your friend there, but…he wasn't much help."

Blinking Harry thought for a second. "I think that they're…" He pointed to the fork ahead of them. "I believe that you go that way and up the stairs. Just listen for the screaming."

"Thanks. I've been meaning to talk to Hermione. But…" Charlotte's eyes darkened. "She's been avoiding me."

"I'm sure she's just been busy with Head duties and such." Harry assured. "Not avoiding you."

Charlotte shook her head as she turned away. "No. She's avoiding me."

Harry watched her walk away. Hermione's cousin was moody. Much like Hermione. There was something strange about her, besides the fact she was a brick of ice. Everything was peculiar. Harry shook his head. What had he been thinking? A hat with a cold, Harry moaned at himself, I'm such an idiot.

"Harry!" Miriam laughed as he was wrenched back into reality. "Skittish aren't you? Ron and I've decided that we all need to get together—hang out." She added at his blank look. "Get to know each other."

"Who?"

"Well, there'd be you, me and Ron. Hermione and Charlotte—that is if you can get her to attend a social function. I'd really like to get to know you all better." She thought for a second. "Yes. Very much so. Well, it's all set. We'll all meet up here. Grand. Bye!"

"Does she always do that?" Harry asked turning to Ron who was shaking his head.

"Not always." Ron mumbled, too low. "Come on, lets get out of here."

* * *

Hermione was doing her utmost to avoid the horrid Slytherin. Every time she spotted a glimpse of his gleaming blond hair she saw red and fantasized about all the ways one could rip out someone else's hair. She hated everything about his arrogant self. The entire year was ruined. Completely ruined.

Out of the corner of her eye she spied him smirking as usual.

No question about it, Hermione decided, the year was going to suck, badly.

"The Heads dormitory is up this way. You both have to agree on a password for the portrait—or rather, enchanted door—and then you each choose one for your room. You must be able to remember the password here, or you will not be allowed into the room. It will not be changed. So make it something you _both _can remember." Professor McGonagal finished sharply.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. "Is the door going to bite me?" He peered cautiously at the…wriggling door. It might have appeared to be solid wood from afar, but now he understood by what McGonagal had meant by 'enchanted door'. Up close it resembled a mesh of writhing fang and teeth. Utterly unpleasant to look at, Draco decided.

"It's just a door Mr. Malfoy." McGonagal replied dryly. "I don't have all night, choose a password. Since Mr. Malfoy has a mortal fear of the door, Ms. Granger, choose."

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she thought. If there was one thing she'd always hated it was multiple-choice tests, she hated having options. She hated choices. "Um, how bout Macha."

The door swung open and McGonagal left them without a word. The echo of her footsteps faded down the hall leaving them quite alone. Draco watched her hurried departure.

"What is going on this year?" He mumbled. "And what the hell is Macha?" on second thought. "No, don't tell me, probably some fool muggle god." He sneered at Hermione. "I don't care, I just want to sleep."

Hermione shook her head. "You are amazing."

Draco smirked. "Thank you." He entered the dorm.

"It wasn't a compliment you conceited asshole."

Draco only looked at her, scrutinizing. "Such language, Granger, I would have thought it below you. But then again, you can't sink much lower, can you?" He opened the door to his left and peered in. The room was pale ivory but anything soft ended there. The corners were sharp, harsh and outlined in black. A thick, obsidian black lining wound its way around the room and the windows were covered by heavy drapes. Draco nodded in approval. He turned to Hermione, grasping the door.

"This one's mine." He slammed the door.

"Like I wanted that stupid room anyway." Hermione mumbled. Turning instead to the other door, unfortunately Draco had come back out and rushed past her, opening it and sticking his head in.

"Excuse you." Hermione wanted to smack him. He was sticking that horrible Roman nose into everything.

"Do you have a problem with me?" Draco asked with laughter in his eyes. Of course you do, he thought as she shook her head.

"No." Hermione answered curtly. "I just don't like you in my room." It was her room, she could tell as she ignored the drat male blocking most of it from view. The room was furnished in dark burgundies, jades, and gold. Her colors. And Malfoy was only maiming the beauty of it all. "You are ruining the décor." She pushed passed him and gripped the door.

Draco had a feint hint of deja'vu as he looked at the scowling Gryffindor.

"Do you think that leaving is on your agenda? I have things to do."

Instead of leaving, Draco pushed his way back in and chose to recline on the bed. "Such as?"

Hermione gawked at him. "It is none of your business!" He only smirked at her.

"Well then, I guess I really don't feel like moving. This is an awfully comfortable bed by the way." Draco relaxed as her fury took over.

"You…you! I hate you!"

"We're going to be living together for this _entire _year. So, Granger, I propose you get used to how things will be—right now. If I ask you where you're going, you'll tell me. If I ask you to tell me something, you'll tell me or…"

"Or what you greasy haired ferret?" Seeing red was an understatement but she hadn't actually expected him to react. He was up with more speed than she'd have thought possible.

"I don't like your insults Granger." He stood close to her—too close, letting his hands run lightly down her back.

"And you are too friendly with where you put your hands Malfoy." He smirked and her anger only grew hotter.

"Not yet, Granger." Draco hissed. "Just you wait. Just you wait." He turned then, leaving her alone in her room.

Speechless.

He liked her that way.

* * *

It was late and Harry wanted nothing more than to escape. He didn't want to be here. Across from him sat Miriam, he really didn't want to be here. "So, uh, when are the other's supposed to get here?" He asked, nervously.

Miriam shrugged. "I have no idea. I told everyone ten o'clock…but…" she looked away. "We can start without them." She flipped her multi-colored hair and it shimmered over her shoulder. She waited another second before making a decision. "Well, I can see it's going to be a bit awkward. So, I'll start." She leaned back into the couch.

"Er, that sounds good." Harry received another mega-watt smile, instantly relaxing.

"Well, let me see. As you know, Ron is my favorite cousin, hmm…I live—correction, lived in Coral Canyon, Utah. That's in the United States. Have you ever traveled Harry?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, no. Never."

"Travel is definitely an eye opener. Really expands your horizons, know what I mean Harry?"

"I…I really don't know what you mean. The farthest I've been from home is Hogwarts, but I consider Hogwarts home, so, yeah." Harry mumbled something inaudible.

The conversation ground to a halt.

Harry watched the carpet.

Miriam studied him.

"When did you find out that you were a wizard?"

"Huh?"

"When did you find out you had, you know, magical abilities?"

Harry thought for a second. "Er, when I got my letter. I suppose that's when I knew for sure. It was complicated. I'd always just thought I was odd or something. I guess I was eleven."

Miriam twisted a ring on her finger. Harry watched her artist's fingers slowly rotate the simple silver band.

"I found out by accident, well…" Her laughter rolled out sweet as honey. "Actually it is kind of ironic now that I think of it. I found out I was a witch by accident when I was in an accident. Yeah…" Miriam sighed. Her eyes grew dark. "It shouldn't have happened. It was their fault."

Harry glanced around quickly. Energy crackled around, the room seemed electrified. He could feel the anger. "I'm sorry."

Instantly, the room cleared. "It was horrible, the accident, my best friend was killed—my sister, too. And, and I only have a scar. It's a horrible scar."

Harry felt himself start to melt. "I have one too…a constant reminder of a time where I should have been killed. Other's died, but not me. Now I live with…all that pain."

Miriam reached out, taking Harry's hand in hers. Her eyes were wide and open and full of memories. "It's so hard, isn't it? Because it never ends…it never ends. Each new day brings it all back to you." She stared into his eyes, her face somber, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"No, it never ends."

* * *

It had taken her considerable time to make that idiot of a Slytherin leave her room. Finally alone, Hermione locked her door. She didn't trust her password alone nor the muggle lock. She placed her own charm on the room before settling cross-legged on her bed. A few deep calming breaths did nothing to calm her nerves as she unfolded the pendant and let it lay in front of her.

It was beautiful. Dangerous beauty. So very…her hand reached out for it and she withdrew it sharply.

The pendent was dark, neither silver nor gold, entwining ropes of non-color knotted into a tortured enclosure. Inside, a stone, a planet, revolved—its power bound causing the whole thing to hum with barely contained magic.

Unstable.

It was fear, fear of the unknown, of something she couldn't control that kept her from accepting it. The choice wasn't hers. But, if she didn't take it, someone would force it upon her.

Slowly, Hermione undid a small black leather strap and strung the pendent. Even slower she brought it to her own neck, tying the ends of the leather into a knot. The pendant weighed heavily on her chest for a second, and then she was gone.

Draco squinted against the light of the common room as the knocker continued that horrible racket. "What the bloody hell do you want!" He moaned as he opened the door. "Oh, it's you. What is your problem, it's bloody three a.m.! Don't you sleep?"

Charlotte sneered at him. "Only mortals need sleep." She pushed past him and stalked to Hermione's closed door.

"Granger's asleep." Draco said from behind her. "Plus she's locked her door."

"You can't lock out family." Charlotte whispered a spell and opened Hermione's door. Her eyes searched the room. "She isn't even here."

"What?" Draco peered over Charlotte's shoulder and observed that the room was indeed empty. "Where the hell did she go?"

"It is none of your business." Charlotte said with annoyance as she pushed a stunned Malfoy away from the door. "Goodnight." She said and slammed the door in his face, locking it by spell. She turned around, rubbing the pendent at her neck.

"Hermione, you're one bloody stupid witch." She murmured.

* * *

Malfoy stared at the door. Where the hell had Granger gone? The door had been locked by magic, he was sure. Draco cocked his head to the side…hmmm…he smiled. He hadn't made Head boy just because of his looks. He went to get his broom.

Granger's balcony doors were open. He landed as quietly as he could and peeked around the heavy drapes.

Just in time to avoid the book that had been hurled from across the room.

Granger's cousin was tearing the room apart, flinging open doors and throwing books and ranting all the while.

"Hermione, I know you can hear me!" he heard her say as she flung open the closet door. "Hermione! I am not leaving!" Charlotte kicked a pile of clothes. "Sooner or later you're going to come out. I'd say sooner, if you value any of your possessions!" Draco watched as Charlotte grabbed a handful of clothes and yanked them off the hanger.

"What the hell are you doing?" This time it was Granger's voice that rang shrilly through the room. Draco quickly scanned the room. No Granger. She didn't have an invisibility cloak that he knew of…did she?

Charlotte continued making a mess. "I think you can see what I'm doing, Hermione. What the hell are you doing?"

"Practicing."

Charlotte glared at the empty room. "Well, isn't that bloody perfect."

Draco heard laughter. "That's what you wanted, that's why you came here." He could hear Granger's taunting voice.

"Yes, but I had hoped you'd be smart about it, damn it."

"What, you can't do it?"

"No, I…" Draco saw Charlotte roll her eyes. With a swipe of her wand the drapes were pulled closed—his view cutting off completely.

"Of course I can, cousin."

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to review my sweet little readers...


	4. New Enemies

**

* * *

**

Evaluate This

**Chapter 4**

**New Enemies

* * *

**

The first week of school started off with two big surprises—neither of which were good, for the Golden Trio or for the student body in general.

The first surprise came during breakfast with a swarm of wings and hoots that swept through the great hall, dropping off parcels and packages, cards and letters, and most important of all, daily newspapers.

Hermione's customary morning paper was dropped unceremoniously into her bowl of porridge by a very annoyed owl. She groaned and withdrew the sopping wet paper giving it a quick and forceful shake sending chunks of porridge flying.

"HEY! Do you mind where you be shaking that thing?" Ron wiped a large glob of porridge from his cheek.

"I think she's pissed that the evaluations won't be in alphabetical order." Whispered Ron as Hermione glared at him, giving the newspaper a final shake—another glob hitting Ron in the forehead.

"That's disgusting." Ron removed the glob. "Food is to be eaten, not used as a weapon."

Hermione treated him to a cold stare.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Someone woke up in a bad mood." He hunkered over his food.

Harry grinned at the subdued Ron. He glanced at Hermione as he reached past her to grab the jam. "Hey, Hermione when did you start wearing jewelry?"

Ron looked up, his eyes narrowing in thought. "You know. That kind of looks familiar." He reached his hand out only to have it smacked away by an irritated Hermione.

"Keep your hands to yourself."

Ron retracted his hand. "I was just curious, _excuse_ me for living."

"It was a gift." Hermione nodded at Harry as she flipped the paper open, her head bent as she scanned the headlines.

"Are you okay?" Harry watched Hermione blanch. "You don't look so good. Maybe you should eat something."

"No." Hermione quickly scooted closer, her eyes filled with anger and panic. "Harry, Ron, we need to go."

The two boys eyed her in confusion.

"NOW!"

Hermione stood, the paper clasped tightly in her clenched fist. Ron and Harry were up and following her without a word.

As they left the Great Hall, Ron cast a longingly look back at his abandoned plate of food.

"Hermione, I was really hungry."

"You're not going to have an appetite in a minute." Hermione growled.

"What is it?" Harry grabbed for the paper.

Hermione kept it out of reach, her eyes worried. "Let's just get…" Hermione glanced around. "We just need to be alone. Come on."

They followed her outside into the chill morning air.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Ron watched as Harry began to fidget as Hermione paced back and forth.

"It's about me isn't it?" Harry's voice was low, his head hanging. He wouldn't meet their eyes.

"I thought you told that Rita Skeeter…" Ron cut off as Harry wrestled for the paper.

"It wasn't written by that old hag." Hermione said softly as Harry opened the paper, the article standing out like a sore thumb.

"Harry?" she asked softly, her hand lightly on his shoulder.

The raven-haired boy didn't explode as she expected, instead he slumped to the ground as he read.

"How?" Harry asked stiffly. "I really would like to know how they do this, have they no morals? Feelings? Anything that would qualify as decent humanity?"

Beneath his quaking skin, Harry was seething.

His entire life was a joke to these people. They didn't care if they made him miserable, if they weren't reporting the truth.

All they wanted was a headline with his name in it. Harry sighed, his fingers shredding the paper as he thought. He hated all this, hated it beyond anything. Beyond, Merlin forbid him, Lord Voldermort. At least Voldermort was honestly trying to kill him outright—not eat him from the inside out. His eyes bored holes at the article in front of him. Voldermort looked like chocolate cake right now.

"Gimme that." Ron grabbed the newspaper and began to read.

_The Daily Prophet Exclusive_

_Harry Potter—His Instability and Self-guilt _

_Written by Delirium Manic_

_The wizarding world's greatest hero, Harry Potter is still tormented and racked with guilt surrounding his parent's death. Harry Potter blames himself, saying that "Everyday I have to live with this…this pain, it never ends." as he wipes glistening tears from his cheeks._

_Though Harry Potter finds solace in his long time friends, he feels that they know nothing about what he goes through every single day. "I feel so alone," Says Harry Potter, his eyes growing dull, a far away look taking over his rather good-looking features. It is no wonder Harry Potter is the heartthrob of the year. His green eyes are soulful and look at you as if you are the only woman in the room. It's too bad he still has designs on good friend, Hermione Granger. "Hermione is always there for me, I've never felt closer to anyone." The small smile on his face creates a dreamy hunk of male, ladies._

Ron stopped reading right three, a disgusting look on his face. "That is just gross. A hunk of dreamy male, are you kidding me?" He tossed the paper behind him.

He dropped down next to Harry. "Who is Delirium Manic? And who the bloody hell does he think he is?"

"I do not have designs on Hermione." Harry mumbled. "I didn't even say any of that. How can they quote me when I never said anything?"

"It's all rubbish Harry."

"Yeah, but it's rubbish that hurts." Harry rubbed his eyes. "It hurts."

"I know. I'm so sorry Harry."

"At least they got one thing right." Harry looked up at Hermione and over at Ron. "You guys are always here for me."

Hermione heard muttered curse words as she slowly lowered herself beside Harry, linking her arms with his. "It seems we have a new enemy."

* * *

Draco watched Granger pull the two boys out of the Great Hall. Hermione was…that was it! Draco stopped all thoughts. It wasn't Hermione; it was Granger or mud blood. She was messing with his mind and he didn't care for it, not one bit.

The fact that Granger had nothing to do with his head pissed him off even more. She was totally oblivious to everything but her precious friends.

He wasn't sure what exactly it was that had him interested so suddenly in the bookworm. Last night's events had defiantly spurred his curiosity. It was hard not to be when there was absolutely nothing logical in any of the things he'd witnessed.

Curiosity getting the better of him Draco stood to leave the Great Hall intent on following the golden trio.

Charlotte didn't enjoy pretending to listen to that bitch Pansy talk anymore, so she stopped. Her eyes roamed the Great Hall finally landing on the goody-too-shoes Gryffindor table—only to find that Hermione wasn't there, nor were the black haired boy or the idiot red head. Charlotte sighed deeply rolling eyes back to Pansy.

The girl wouldn't know logic if it bit her on the face. She had no patience for girls like Pansy, so her attention centered on Miriam. That girl, Charlotte had decided, was worse than she was…evil was a word Charlotte like to say described her quite well. But Miriam…she was much worse. Charlotte put the girl on her 'list' and continued to observe.

"I can't believe it, I really can't. After all, the instructions said that if you wore the cream for four days, it would make your skin…" Pansy trailed off. "Draco? Sweetie? Where are you going?" With incredible speed Charlotte watched Pansy launch herself at the fleeing male.

"Pansy, down." Draco pushed her off as if she were a confused dog. "Stay." He said simply before sweeping out of the Great Hall.

"Wow. I see someone's been whipped." Miriam stated as a slightly embarrassed Pansy sat back down.

Pansy recovered, her smile large as she looked to Miriam. "I know! He is such a sweetheart. He's just, he's just been a little tense lately." She frowned at the spot where Draco had been sitting. "Who wouldn't be after all? Having to live with that mudblood know-it-all." Pansy tossed her hair.

Charlotte's head snapped up, her attention focusing on Pansy. "What was that you said about my dear cousin?" she purred.

Pansy shivered but met the challenger's eyes. The deep cold crept over her, creeping up her skin in long trails of icy fingers. Her voice trembled. "The mudblood is your cousin?"

Her smile would have killed a lesser being. Charlotte nodded. "You were saying?"

Pansy's mouth opened, closed, opened again. Before she could answer a third year screamed. "Pansy! Pansy look!"

The Slytherin pointed excitedly at Pansy's arms.

"Oh my Merlin!"

Pansy watched the slight frost creep up her arms. "You aren't supposed to do magic outside of class!" she shrieked at Charlotte.

"No one told me."

"Or me." Miriam leaned forward cautiously. "How do you know it was Charlotte? I could very easily be the one doing it."

"You're, you're both…" Pansy trailed off as the frost stopped its trail up her arms. Instead, it wrapped itself tightly around them, another coat of skin.

"Oh!" Pansy could feel the sickening cold as it enveloped her tightly, penetrating all the way to her bones.

Her hurried escape and shrieks signaled the end of breakfast.

* * *

Harry was surprised that neither Hermione nor Ron insisted they go back inside. He didn't know how long they'd been sitting there—didn't bother to look at his watch. All he wanted was to be someone else. To be ignored.

He could just imagine how great that would be. "I want to be invisible."

Hermione blinked, the silence broken. "Don't we all?"

"I wonder what it would be like to not have to look over my shoulder. I sometimes wish I had never…never found out about all this." Harry waved his hand indicating Hogwarts.

"No you don't. Harry, Hogwarts is your home. So, you may have to deal with the unwanted celebrity status that you didn't ask for. But…things could be worse."

"How's that Hermione?" Ron tossed another ball of grass he'd methodically picked…piece, by little green piece.

Hermione leaned back. "Well, you could already be dead…"

"Always a plus."

"You could be maimed…"

"Wouldn't mind that."

"You could have never met us." Hermione finished softly. "Would you have liked that too Harry?"

"No." Harry whispered, taking Hermione's hand. "I wouldn't want that."

Hermione grinned. "Good."

Ron's stomach growled loudly.

"I know we're having this truly lovely bonding moment here and everything…but…" His stomach grumbled. "I think it's time for lunch. What do you say?"

Harry nodded, his heart lighter than it had been. "Let's go."

* * *

It was during their noon meal that the second surprise came. The three Gryffindors were chatting amiably when the headmaster stood.

"If I could have your attention for a moment." The hall slowly quieted as all eyes went to Dumbledore.

"Today marks the start of the first series of evaluations. Mr. McGale and Ms. Danna have decided that you will undergo these evaluations in a series of groups or rather, families. You will be required to sit with your new family. We will be dissolving the house tables for as long as necessary." A flick of his wand had the long house tables turn into rows of round tables. "I have been assured that this is…common practice. I hope you will give us your cooperation. I have the list of families here. When I call your names, we'd like you to stand with your family." Dumbledore conjured a scroll of parchment and cleared his throat.

Harry cringed as he heard his name, the squeeze of comfort Hermione gave him didn't help much as the rest of the names were rattled off.

"The first group will be seeing Mr. McGale. Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini, Miriam De'Lunic, and Lavender Brown. If you four will please sit in your new family."

Groaning audibly Harry moved to his new table.

"The second group will be seeing Ms. Danna. Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, and Draco Malfoy."

"The third group includes Paravati Patill, Hannah Abbot…"

Hermione was ready to strangle Cornelius Fudge for putting Dumbledore up to this. It was cruel and unusual punishment, she was quite sure there were laws against this sort of thing. But she sat down across from a sulking, yet smirking, Malfoy as told. It amazed her that his face could do that all at once. He truly was alien.

When Dumbledore finished he sat down with a sigh. "From this moment on, you will be going to your assigned psychiatrist for anything you need. Any questions you have will be answered by them. You are not to go to any of the other teachers. I now start the Evaluation Semester."

And with that simple announcement, the students of Hogwarts found out the true meaning of hell.

* * *

"Would you stop sighing Potter? I don't think anyone is exactly happy with this arrangement, but could you just give it a rest?"

"You know, Zabini, if I wanted your opinion I'd ask you!" Harry shot at the Slytherin.

"Harry." Lavender softly whispered, patting him on the back awkwardly.

"I'm stuck with the Gryffindor goody-goodies."

"Watch it, Blaise." Miriam sneered. "You don't want to hear Harry sigh, and I don't want to hear your bellyaching. So shut up!"

"We're getting along great." Lavender murmured.

* * *

"So…" Ron tried to break the stark silence. Hermione didn't say a word; Ron wasn't exactly sure where it was she was staring. Malfoy looked uncomfortable next to the snuggling Pansy.

"Get off." Draco shoved Pansy away, only to have her cling right back into place.

"Having trouble there Malfoy?"

"None whatsoever Weasley."

Ron's brow furrowed. "Could have fooled me."

Draco sneered. "Not hard to pull something over on you."

Pansy snuggled closer and Malfoy winced.

"What's that supposed to mean, ferret?"

Draco's eyes seared through the Gryffindor. "What do you think it means stupid?"

"I don't think I like your tone Malfoy." Ron murmured angrily.

Draco squired away from Pansy. "And you think I care?"

"I..."

"Would you two just shut up!" Hermione gripped her hair. "I can't take it anymore. Just be quiet."

"Sorry, Hermione." Ron apologized.

Draco smirked. "You are such a wimp. She yells and you start whimpering like a beat dog. Pathetic Weasley. That is the worst kind of pathetic. Be a man why don't…" Draco trailed off as Granger caught his eye.

If looks could kill…

Ron grinned. "Yeah. Be a man Malfoy." He turned to Hermione and she smiled.

They'd managed to get one over on the arrogant pureblood.

It was going to be a good day after all.

That was, until Mr. McGale stood and waited for silence.

Five minutes later, he cleared his throat.

A murmur ran through the students and quiet eventually fell.

"Ms. Danna and I are going to start your evaluations today. According to whether you are to meet with myself or my colleague each of you will come to our designated offices in your assigned family unit." He straitened. "We have posted a list outside this hall, you must find your time. We do not allow tardiness, so be prompt. If you have any questions, you may ask them. The first meeting will take place ten minutes after lunch."

Blaise leaned over. "Let me translate that for you all. Me and my stuck up friend here are going to start torturing you and your fellow students. We like to make this last as long as possible, so please don't be late—or we'll be forced to get dirty. If you have any questions I will gladly bite your head off for being stupid."

Lavender grinned. "Right on."

Observing the unguarded smile that graced the Slytherin's face, Harry felt a strange sort of acceptance. At least he had a sense of humor, Harry thought.

"I wonder what time we've got." Miriam stood. "I'll be right back."

She returned shortly after, a deep frown on her face.

"So we'll be seeing them in…"

Miriam glanced at her watch. "Five minutes."

"Fuck." Blaise rubbed his hand tiredly over his face. "We're first then."

"Seems so."

Lavender, always one to look on the bright side gave them all an encouraging smile. "It might not be bad."

* * *

A/N: Please Review as always...the only thing that keeps this story goingare your reviews. I warn you now!


	5. Stupid Questions and the Great Escape

* * *

**Evaluate This**

**Chapter 5**

**Stupid Questions and the Great Escape**

* * *

Blaise Zabini ran from the room screaming the door banging closed behind him with a crack. Harry grimaced as he watched the poor boy run. Glancing at Miriam she caught his eye and winked.

"I'm guessing it didn't go so well for him, eh?"

Harry shook his head. "Poor guy. I kind of liked him."

"Ruined for life, no doubt."

"He'll never be the same."

Miriam grimaced. "Two guesses who is next." she smirked as the balding head of Mr. McGale popped into the hallway.

Stupid git, Miriam thought, big pompous head thinks he knows everything.

"De'Lunic, Miriam."

Harry grinned widely as Miriam skipped, flashing him a white teethed smile…he got a subtle impression of fangs. She hopped inside the room, full of energy, leaving a rather ruffled Mr. McGale in her wake. It hadn't taken them long to see that the tactic he took was Intimidation before Examination…and from the results, examination was more akin to being beheaded…and that was putting it nicely.

Harry ticked the results off mentally. _Lavender walked out white as a ghost, complete zombie and Blaise…_Harry chuckled and wondered briefly if Mr. McGale would get the better of Miriam. He seriously doubted it.

* * *

Darkness enfolded the room. The single lamp tried but failed to light the expanse. Ms. Danna sat in the darkness a slight glow on her skin, her back ramrod straight in the most uncomfortable looking chair Draco had ever seen. Beside him he could feel Hermione shift uncertain. It had been a full three minutes since they'd been called in together and not a word had passed.

Finally, the psychiatrist leaned forward. "I will put this simply. Each of you will answer each question I ask. If a problem arises and persists, I will not hesitate to hex you." The woman's eyes gleamed maliciously. "The questions I ask and your answers will be posted outside the Great Hall after each session next to your name. There will be _no_ secrets. To make sure you are not lying, I have been given permission to use my own homemade truth serum."

Standing she walked around her desk, two vials in hand. She handed one to Hermione and one to Draco.

"Drink."

Draco could remember how Pansy and Weasley had looked upon exiting the office. Dazed, confused, and utterly humiliated.

Go figure they'd crack easily.

That wasn't going to happen to him. He hated to admit it but he was glad at the pairings. If there was one person in his 'family' who he didn't mind getting paired off with, it was Hermione.

He knew her thoughts on this particular subject, she'd been very vocal about how stupid the entire thing was—and for once, her opinion mirrored his perfectly. Neither of them were happy and if he knew anything about Granger, he knew that she was stubborn.

This was going to be like pulling teeth.

And he was looking forward to it.

Under the woman's fierce gaze, Draco upended the vial and drank the foul contents.

"Merlin! What did you put in that? It tastes like cyanide."

"And I'm sure you know what cyanide tastes like, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco frowned, but Hermione also seemed to agree with him as she sputtered, coughing.

"Wretched stuff!" she exclaimed, before clamping her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in shock. Draco smirked.

Ms. Danna's scowl deepened which only made Draco's traditional sneer cross his face.

"Mr. Malfoy. Is there something you find amusing? And if so, would you share it so that we can all laugh at your idiocy before we continue as adults?"

Hermione had to stifle a chuckle and masqueraded it with a hard, loud cough. Ms. Danna turned with what Hermione presumed was her most evil look on her, which only made her have to laugh harder.

"And you, Ms. Granger, do you have a problem?" The glare was steely.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand—trying desperately to stifle the giggles. "Of c-course ck-not. Just a bit of a c-cough." She gave her best 'I really am innocent smile'.

Ms. Danna could only glare.

"Now that this amusing episode has passed. I want you to introduce yourselves to me and answer each question as I ask it. Am I speaking clearly enough?"

Why no! Hermione thought sarcastically, holding the urge to roll her eyes, I just happen to be too stupid to understand English, Hermione sighed. What was this women's problem anyway?

"Mr. Malfoy. State your name, age, and birth date."

Malfoy took his time, examining his fingernails, scooting forward on the couch, resting his hands on his knees and finally looking up. "Come again?" He asked in the sweetest voice he could manage.

Beside him, Hermione broke out in another fit of laughi—ahem—coughing.

Ms. Danna took out her wand, and set it on her lap. "I do believe you heard me Mr. Malfoy."

"My name, lady, is Draco Malfoy. I am seventeen. My birthday is January 17, 1988.

"Please state your middle name."

Draco scowled. "What the hell do you need to know that for?"

"State your middle name." Ms. Danna said firmly.

Hermione shifted slightly in her seat. Must not be something he's proud of. His middle name, hmmm…oh do tell. She shifted again in anticipation.

"Herbert." Draco mumbled. His parents made one mistake, one! In a moment of delusion, they'd decided on Herbert. He'd never live this down.

"Come again." The irony of it made Hermione feel a notch of respect for Ms. Danna.

I guess she is paying attention after all.

"My name is Draco _Herbert_ Malfoy." Draco said slowly through gritted teeth. Ms. Danna nodded and looked down at her clipboard, Draco ground his teeth. One moment of delusion!

"Ms. Granger, the same applies to you. Do I need to repeat myself?"

It wasn't a question and Hermione knew it. "Hermione Bella Granger. Seventeen years old as of the 3rd of July, 1988."

"Now Ms. Granger, answer these three questions. They are questions about your current feelings towards friends and fellow students." Ms. Danna smoothed the paper across her desk. "First, who is the person you loathe most, two, who is your best friend, and third, your current 'crush' is?"

Hermione paused.

"The potion has taken affect Ms. Granger. You may answer the questions now."

Draco rolled his eyes—all this was giving him a splitting headache.

"Well to be truthful Ms. Danna, loath is a very strong word. To loath you must be either as stubborn and stupid as the one you loath or you don't look for the good in people, which makes you stupid anyway." Hermione swayed slightly. It was hard to think clearly. She would have said Malfoy right off the bat. But did she really loath him? She detested him, no doubt. He made her life miserable, yes. But did she hate so much that she wanted to see him dead every time she caught site of him? The answer was no.

"Ms. Granger, if you are confused by the question, I will restate it using simpler vocabulary."

"Oh, you really need to shut up." Hermione snapped, feeling pleasure at the shocked expression she received. "I don't loathe Malfoy here, that gives him too much credit. He makes me miserable. That's why you paired us off like this. To make me miserable. Well, guess what? I am. And I don't need ferret boy over there to help me out!" Hermione stood, grasping the pillow she'd been leaning against and swung it at Malfoy's head.

His fingers caught the pillow an inch before it would have connected with his face, his mouth dropped open in shock.

"You just tried to hit me!" What the hell was in that truth serum?

Hermione glared at him, her face flushed. "Stop whining." She turned back to Ms. Danna.

"Enutiate!"

Hermione blinked.

"Sit down Ms. Granger." she penned 'anger management' in her notes and looked up. "We'll come back to you in a minute." she glanced at Draco. "You know the questions Mr. Malfoy. Answer them."

The words slipped from his mouth without thought. "I hate Potter. Harry Potter that is, incase you have your head stuck too far up your ass to know who scar head is. I hate him cause I have to. I hate him cause he actually isn't ugly and all the girls swoon over that fucking scar of his, I hate him because he has everyone in this castle ready to defend his skinny ass at the drop of a hat." He paused then turned to Hermione, who had certainly looked better—she looked doped up at the moment, her eyes wide and glassy. "And I really didn't appreciate being hexed to hell on the train. You know how long it took to find the anti-boil charm? I had those damn painful boils all over my body for days!" Draco was silent now.

"The second ques…"

"I know what the freaking second question was you bitch. Yeah, that's right. Well, you give people a truth serum, what the hell do you think is going to come out?" Draco was panting. He knew now why Hermione had started charging about like a rhino…he felt empty, raw, no morals, nothing was standing in the way of his mouth. He couldn't control any of it. He wasn't in control.

Draco shivered.

Ms. Danna stared at him expectantly.

"I don't have a goddamn best friend!" Draco shouted. Standing up he started pacing back and forth, mumbling. "Another reason to hate Potter. Got his own goddamn golden trio and they do it cause they like him. I'd have to pay for that. Crabbe and Goyle hang around 'cause they are my bodyguards, doesn't make them friends. Blaise, I don't know if I trust him enough yet. I have trust issues."

"Oh and before you ask. I have a crush on Hermione Granger." I do? News to me…Draco thought for a second. Oh fuck, _I'm going to regret that._ Then he realized he didn't have the energy to care. Later, later he'd have to deal with the repercussions of his extremely loose mouth.

* * *

"Miriam? Is it okay if I call you Miriam?" Mr. McGale glanced at the stoic girl as he went over his notes. Shuffling a few papers he lowered his glasses.

"My friends call me Mira." They used to.

"Ah, yes. Your friends, lets start with that." Mr. McGale folded his hands and peered at her. "You transferred here from your school back in the states. How do you like it here? A big change?"

He took a different approach to this one. She was different. She wasn't used to nice. This one wouldn't crack with hard words and threats. No, what she needed, what would break her, would be soft, caring, thoughtful conversations. And he was right. He watched as Miriam stiffened.

"I know you have just transferred to Hogwarts. But it seems you've already made friends. Am I right?"

Miriam nodded.

"You make friends easily?"

Miriam leaned back. "My cousin, Ron Weasley, goes here."

"So your cousin helped you make friends?"

"No…"

"But you have made friends?"

"You could call them that." she called them acquaintances. Not friends. She didn't have friends.

"You feel you can't have friends, you fear for their safety?"

Miriam looked up in shock. "Exactly what do you know about me, Mr. McGale?"

"Well, Mira. I have here several articles of which I am sure you know the nature of." He gently laid several clippings from newspapers on the table between them. The girl's hands shook as she reached out, lightly trailing her finger down the worn print.

"Yes." She said coldly. "I do."

Mr. McGale nodded, slowly watching her. "I understand, Mira, the trauma you went through. However, I don't think you have ever told anyone the story, the true story. If you had…I wouldn't need to help you. Would I?"

Miriam glanced at him and shook her head, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "I've already been to a shrink. Thanks but no thanks."

"I am not a muggle Miriam." Mr. McGale said firmly, looking her straight in the eye. "What happened to you was a nightmare, but it didn't come in the dark, it didn't come at a time when you would feel unsafe. No, what happened to you happened in broad daylight, in plain sight, in front of your sister and best friend…and they didn't make it." He let this sink in. "To a muggle, this may look like an accident, but…" He pulled out a folder filled with clippings from wizard newspapers. "But in this world, Mira, what happened to you—was no accident."

Miriam looked at the folder, her eyes filled with a desperate hunger, a dark rage. "It _wasn't _an accident." She whispered, her voice hoarse.

"I know." Mr. McGale tucked the folder back into his pile. "What I don't know is how you feel. What do you feel?"

Miriam, her eyes glued to the folder in the pile, looked up for a brief second—the air buzzing with uncontrolled magic. "Hatred. I feel hatred."

* * *

Hermione gaped at Malfoy. _He…has…a…crush…on…me?_ She let the thought twirl in her head for a moment before she tossed it out. _No way in hell._

Draco was sitting on the couch, thoroughly miserable now. Ms. Danna had excused herself as the fireplace called her. So he sat there, his head in his hands, hoping to god Granger wasn't staring at him. But she was. He could feel it. Sighing deeply, he looked up. "Got something to say Granger?"

"You like me?" she asked in wonder.

"No, I was lying."

"Since when?"

Draco looked at her worriedly. "I don't know Granger, wasn't something I planned on. It was as much news to me as it was you." He smirked. "Why, do you like me too?"

Ruffled, Hermione stalked toward him. "As it so happens I…" she didn't get to finish. Draco gripped her wrist tightly and tugged, pulling her closer.

"Let go."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Ms. Danna is going to come back, please Draco, let go." She tugged, but his grip only tightened and she was suddenly pulled a lot closer to him.

"Now, now Granger, you _must_ like me, you just called me Draco." He lowered his head and brushed his lips across her forehead.

"No, I don't, one slip of the tongue does not constitute liking Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "Whatever you say."

"I'm serious."

"Oh, I believe you."

"You're mocking me!"

"Possibly."

"I'm going to…"

Draco paused, but she remained silent. "Let's get out of here."

"What?"

"I don't want to be here. And I know you don't either. Let's go before she comes back."

"We can't do that!" Hermione whispered indignantly. "We'll get in trouble."

"That never stopped you before." Draco tugged on her wrist as he stepped toward the door. "We can still make a break for it. It's not like we'll be missing anything important."

"But…"

"Granger! Now is not the time to play goody goody. Come on. You hate this as much as I do."

This time when he pulled on her wrist, she came and together…

Together, they made their escape.

* * *

A/N: REVIEW!


	6. Waiting

**

* * *

**

Evaluate This

**Chapter 6**

**Waiting

* * *

**

Miriam waited outside Mr. McGale's office for Harry. When the door finally opened a less than happy Gryffindor greeted her. His green eyes were shadowed and his whole face let her know he was mulling over what had gone on in there.

"So... how'd it go?"

Harry shrugged and kept walking. He wasn't in the mood for talking, even if it was Miriam. Had he been given the choice to spend an hour with either Snape or Mr. McGale he'd have chosen the slimy potions master without pause. Miriam had to walk fast to match his pace.

"Not well, huh?"

Harry didn't look at her as he started. "No one knows me. They assume everything. Everything." Harry paused, his hand a tight fist at his side. "They're all liars."

"Who?"

Harry waved his hand. "Everyone." He hissed, more to himself than his audience. "I never asked for this, I never wanted to be a celebrity." His voice lowered dangerously. "Never wanted to be gawked at…a freak."

"You're not a freak Harry."

Harry's angry green eyes glared at her. "Oh, really?" He moved his hair to the side, showing off the bane of his existence, the reason for his celebrity status. "According to the wizarding world, this…" He let his bangs fall back over the scar. "This makes me a freak."

The stone floor was worn—hundreds, thousands of feet had walked this floor, year after year. Miriam sighed. It was a nice floor, but avoiding the bad-tempered Gryffindor wasn't going to solve the situation.

"Harry, your scar doesn't make you a freak. You're special all on your own." his short laugh made her cringe. "Special in a good way Harry." she murmured softly.

Miriam bit her lip. Then she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. "I know. I know what you mean, though. I unfortunately understand, whether you believe me or not. I do."

Glad that the topic had veered off himself, Harry glanced over. "You never told me what happened. Ron mentioned something 'bout an accident."

"I've never told anyone." Her hand slid off his shoulder. "Probably never will."

They passed out of the hallway into the sunlit outdoors.

"I suppose…" Harry shrugged. "Most things are best kept to yourself."

Miriam nodded and watched as Harry walked off, his black hair gleaming in the late afternoon beams.

"And sometimes," Miriam whispered as she walked the opposite way. "It's best to be alone."

* * *

It wasn't the first time she'd done something—out of character—after all, when you were best friends with Harry Potter, you were always breaking some school rule. All in the name of saving the world of course. But this was Hermione's first time she'd done _this _without there being a dire need to do it—and with Draco freaking Malfoy at that.

To say that the escape from Ms. Danna's torture chamber was interesting would be a definite understatement. After her heart rate returned to the realm of normal, her conscious and morals decided to have a go at her.

Malfoy had her hand, pulling her into passageways she'd never seen before, behind portraits, and through disappearing doors. He'd released her wrist at the door to their common room.

"Macha."

The portrait opened and Malfoy looked over his shoulder before entering. "Don't tell a soul, understand?" His eyes glimmered with ill-contained hatred. But for the first time—that terrifying look of hate wasn't directed at her…wasn't meant for her.

Hermione shrugged. "There would be nothing to tell, right?"

Draco pondered her for a moment. "Fast learner."

Nodding, Hermione went to her room. "See you later," she said without thinking as she shut the door behind her. Closed off from him, Hermione turned with a sigh.

"Ah!"

Hermione slid to the floor in shock. Her room wasn't the least bit empty. "You think you could possibly use common courtesy? You know, knocking, asking for permission?"

Charlotte's eyes glittered mischievously. "That would be too hard. Might hurt myself."

Pushing herself to her feet, Hermione ignored her cousin. "What a shame. I'd hate for you to overtax yourself."

"I know. It would be such a pity."

"What exactly do you want?"

The glitter in Charlotte's eyes was not encouraging. "Just wanted to know how your first day went." Her fingers trailed down a braided strip of black suede. Toying with it, winding it through her fingers—just the way she toyed with the people in her life. Spinning intricate tales and lies.

Hermione huffed. "It went as expected." Dogging her cousin's curious gaze she slipped towards the bathroom.

"Oh no you don't. I want to talk." Charlotte stepped between her and her haven.

"Maybe I don't want to talk."

Ignoring the comment, Charlotte pulled Hermione back towards the bed. "I heard from a certain Slytherin that you and a certain other Slytherin had a session together…a session that isn't supposed to be over for another fifteen minutes."

"And these Slytherins have names?"

"Yes. One of which I believe is a certain blond boy who thinks he owns the world. A certain blond boy who was _holding _you the other day in a very…tight embrace."

Hermione blushed. "Why did you bring that up?"

"Oh, I'm not finished just yet." Charlotte grinned. "A certain blond boy who is your mortal enemy, or so say your supposed best friends. Now, your very sweet cousin here would like an explanation."

"There is nothing to explain."

"Don't make me pull teeth, Hermione."

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed. "Charlotte, I really have no idea what's going on."

"Well, that's a start." she shifted, bringing her legs beneath her. "So this Draco Malfoy has been your worst enemy for, what, four…five years?"

"Yeah."

"And suddenly…"

"He hasn't changed." Charlotte's eyebrow rose. "Not much, I mean. Yeah, he's suddenly not repulsed to, to…touch me. But he still rattles off the insults, still sneers, still torments me. It's just a new form of torment."

"Do you like him? I think this is the most important thing at the moment. Do you like him, even a little bit?"

"You've got to be kidding! It's Draco Malfoy. What girl hasn't liked his looks at some point or another?"

"So you like the way he looks."

Hermione blushed again. "I'm regretting this already."

"Okay, I'll let it go for a second. But tell me, how is it you got out of there fifteen minutes early?"

Lowering her eyes, Hermione tried to keep the smile, that wanted so desperately to escape, off her lips.

Charlotte grinned. "Please tell. Come on, while I'm young."

"We sort of…" Hermione grimaced, the smile till trying to take over.

"Yes…" Charlotte leaned forward in anticipation.

"We left. Just left."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Right. You just left."

"We did!"

"Uh huh."

"I'm telling you the truth."

"I believe you are telling me the truth. But I think you're leaving out all the juicy details."

Hermione glared. "You're too perceptive for your own good, you know?"

"You want to know what else I've observed?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, no."

"Fine. What do you know?"

"First off, I know that everything that was said during that session you two cut short will be posted tomorrow for _everyone _to read." Her lips widened in a grin at the horror-stricken expression.

"Merlin. You're right."

"Yep. So you can tell me everything, or I'll just find out tomorrow."

"Shit."

In a sickening singsong voice, Charlotte taunted her already downed cousin. "It's going to be common knowledge, all your little boy friends are going to know that the blond idiot likes you."

"Shit."

"Double shit, eh?"

Hermione glared at the evil enjoyment Charlotte was getting from this. "You're demented."

Charlotte only grinned.

"Oh, shut up!" Grabbing a pillow, she flung it.

* * *

Draco moaned into his pillow. Everything, the entire deck of cards, was going to come crashing down on his head. "Crap, crap, crap, crap!"

The night was gaining as Harry whacked the bludger once more. He'd been flying over the pitch, his anger going into killing that bludger. He swung again, seeing Mr. McGale's face. It brought a sick smile to his own. "The best therapy." Harry murmured as the bludger was sent flying away from him.

Ron brought the fork up to eyelevel, eyeing the pie before stuffing it into his mouth. The last bite before he passed out.

Blaise curled into a little ball and cried himself to sleep.

Miriam wrote.

Charlotte and Hermione laughed.

Dumbledore sat in his office, overlooking the subdued castle grounds. It was going to be a long year.

* * *

The next morning, the school teetered on the edge of chaos. Posted outside the Great Hall were the results—several pages of who knew what.

The students, despite themselves, approached. Another case of when curiosity killed the cat. The tension hung in the air as the first students came within range of reading…everyone stilled, ready to defend themselves if necessary.

At the teachers table the silence continued as Ms. Danna and Mr. McGale exchanged veiled looks before they turned their attention to the students. Waiting…

The smiles faded from their faces, replaced with deep frowns.

Instead of the chaos, the fighting, the hatred, the turning. Instead of pandemonium, the psychiatrists heard…

Laughter.

Ms. Danna's eyes bulged.

Surprised, Mr. McGale choked on his morning coffee. Standing, he hurried down to the doors, Ms. Danna on his heels.

They're mouths dropped open.

"Oh man Dean, I had no idea your favorite color was pink!"

Dean started to back away.

"Hey, Dean man, me too!"

Slowly Dean smiled.

Laughter.

"Mate, look there, Ron and Hermione are _just friends_, wow! Who knew?"

"Really? You've got to be kidding me."

"Nah, see." Seamus pointed next to Ron's name under 'love interest'.

"Hey, everyone! Look here, Malfoy's middle name is Herbert!"

"My parents went momentarily brain dead." Draco mumbled.

"That's better than having the middle name Skinnard."

"Skinnard?"

"Yeah, I'd much rather have Herbert."

Draco smirked. "Too bad, eh?" For the first time, he loved his middle name.

"Zabini, I didn't know you were deathly afraid of spiders!" Ron cried, then turned to the wary Slytherin. "Join the club mate!"

Hermione and Charlotte observed the varying reactions of their classmates.

"Who would have thought it?" Charlotte murmured.

"No kidding." Hermione smiled as she watched Ron and Blaise discuss how disgusting spiders were…watched as friendships formed. "Look over there." Hermione whispered, pointing to the entrance of the Great Hall where two very defeated psychologists stood.

"Is she drooling?"

"I think so." Hermione grinned. "Seems we shocked them senseless."

Beaming brightly, Charlotte walked up to the lists. "You never told me I was your favorite cousin!"

"You're my only cousin."

Charlotte shook her head. "No. What about Clarissa?"

"She's not my cousin."

"Yes she is. My mother's sister."

"Which would be my mom."

"No her other sister."

"What other sister?"

"Oh just admit it, you have other cousins…but _I'm_ your favorite."

"Fine. I admit it."

As the students dispersed, opting for food, they all sat down in their families—the hall uncommonly noisy.

Everyone's thoughts revolved around one thing. _Us: 1, Them: 0.

* * *

_

Draco tried to eat his breakfast in relative peace. But when half the student body was running here and there and everywhere, all the while yakking it up, it was very hard to enjoy a peaceful breakfast.

He watched as the 'families' visited each other, not caring about what house they used to belong to.

Everyone did just as they wanted.

"Hey _Herbert_." Blaise slid into an empty seat next to Draco.

"Blaise." Draco nodded.

They settled easily into their roles as they ate breakfast.

When Dumbledore rose from his seat the hall took several minutes to quiet. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind, his eyes glittering. "I have an announcement to make."

Draco looked up from his breakfast.

"I have been informed that all evaluations set for today have been cancelled. Since you don't have classes, you can use this free time as you wish." Dumbledore paused. "I do need to see the Head Boy and Girl in my office. After breakfast of course."

Draco glanced around until he found Hermione and caught her eye. She nodded, giving him a slight smile before looking away.

"Why are you smiling?"

Draco wiped the smile off his face as he looked up. "I wasn't smiling."

"Oh yes you were."

"Blaise." Draco said sharply.

"Fine. Fine. I'll shut up."

"Good."

"For now."

Draco couldn't help it, as he got up to leave, he smiled winningly at Blaise. "I'm sure you will. Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

He met Hermione outside of the Great Hall.

"Good breakfast?" she asked as they walked towards Dumbledore's office.

"Tolerable. Yours?"

Hermione shrugged. "Same as usual." They paused in front of the statue. "Buzzard pudding."

"That's just disgusting." Draco mumbled as the gargoyle jumped aside.

"Ah, Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore smiled at them. "I'm glad you could make it. Thank you for coming."

"What do you need professor?"

"Well Ms. Granger, it has to do with the wishes of Mr. McGale and Ms. Danna."

Hermione grimaced. "What do _they_ need?"

"They have requested that you and Mr. Malfoy prepare a…" Dumbledore grinned. "A rather unorthodox ball."

Draco's eyes glittered at the word _unorthodox._ "And what exactly are we supposed to do?"

"Good question Mr. Malfoy, what I have been told is that, while you will arrange and set up the ball, you will be following a very strict list of guidelines."

Malfoy groaned.

"But, other than that, you have the freedom to make this a memorable experience. I'm sure you have by now figured out the intentions of our resident psychologists?"

They nodded.

"Good. I knew you two were smart. So here's the details…I'm sure you won't disappoint us."

* * *

Hermione was sitting on the couch, lounging in what Draco thought to be a quite sexual position. Draco averted his eyes and tried to listen to her. Tried being the key word there.

"Dumbledore basically gave us permission to spit in their faces. We have to be sneaky though, we have to be…" Hermione paused. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?"

"Malfoy, this is important!"

"Uh huh."

"Malfoy!"

"I'm listening Granger, what is it you're trying to say. We have to be…"

"We have to be _you_." She said with a hint of a smirk.

That caught Draco's attention. He brought his silver eyes to her laughing brown ones.

"What exactly do you mean, Granger?"

Hermione sat up on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. "We have to be cunning, cool, precise…you, basically." She finished with a wave of her hand.

"So…you think I'm cunning?" Draco asked as he stepped toward her. Hermione didn't notice the predatory gleam in his eyes. She was reviewing the packet, once more, in front of her.

"Of course." She looked up and was shocked at what she saw in his eyes.

"Hermione." Draco said softly, laying his lips on her forehead, closing his eyes, just enjoying the softness of her skin.

Hermione tried not to breath, Draco had a rather…unique smell, and it was…Merlin help her, intoxicating. He was leaning over her, his body so close, his hair brushing the top of her head. She could feel his warm breath—causing her to shiver.

"I…I have to see Charlotte." Hermione stated dumbly.

"Okay." Draco waited a moment before pulling her face to his, placing a light kiss on her lips. He didn't know why he did it. He didn't really care. She may have been a mudblood, she may be Harry Potter's best friend, she may be his enemy…but those things really don't have much weight once you become attracted. "I'll wait for you."

Hermione pulled away and ran without a backward glance.

She found the Slytherin dungeons without much difficulty—only having to dodge one obstacle, Mrs. Norris. Lucky for her, she was Head Girl, and being Head Girl certainly had its perks—passwords to every house were in her possession.

Hermione did not pause as the portrait opened, she did not pause as the Slytherins looked up at her, she did not pause until she made it to the girl's dormitory and found Charlotte.

Then she collapsed.

"What is it?" Charlotte hurried over to her panting cousin. "What are you doing here?"

"He kissed me."

"Who?"

Hermione's eyes bulged. "He!"

"Oh, Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded frantically.

"And?"

"AND! That's all you have to say?"

Charlotte lay back. "Well, what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know!" Hermione gripped her hair, rocking back and forth.

"Okay, sorry, it's okay." Charlotte patted her back awkwardly. "So how was it?"

"Charlotte." Hermione groaned, sitting up. "I don't think that that part is what matters."

"Whatever you say."

"So, what should I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Run."

Hermione had always held by a few simple rules. A few simple rules as to whether a guy was good enough or not. The fact that she'd never had the opportunity, as of yet, to test them out didn't matter. She believed them.

She'd always held that a guy worth keeping would call you beautiful instead of hot—so not romantic.

He would call you back if you hung up on him—of course, in the wizarding world, she'd have to suffice with flooing over to you after a fight.

He'd call just to talk, long endless conversations about nothing in particular—but mean the world to you.

He would stay beside you, awake even when tired, just to watch you sleep. Hermione couldn't help it; she was a sucker for a little romance.

She believed that a guy was worth keeping if he kissed your forehead…if he wants the world to know how great you are.

That is a guy worth keeping.

A man who wouldn't be embarrassed to be with you in front of his friends. A guy who tells you he cares, a guy who thinks you are special, a guy who points you out in a crowd and says 'that's her'.

Now that she thought about it. That wasn't a few simple rules. That was a whole list. And Malfoy, it seemed…could actually fall into her perfect guy category. _If he tried just a little bit in some areas._

"I'm in so much trouble." Hermione murmured as she fell back onto Charlotte's bed.

"I'd say you're screwed."

Hermione could only laugh as her semi-normal world began to cave in around her.

* * *

A/N: ...Review...


	7. Devious Plans

**

* * *

**

Evaluate This

**Chapter 7**

**Devious Plans

* * *

**

Unfortunately, Hermione's world did not crumble away from her. It was, very unfortunately—solid as a rock.

As for Draco…

Whether or not he had really meant to wait for Hermione, he did just that. The ball that they had to plan took up, if not all, then a majority of Hermione's free time.

Of course, that free time was then split between what she deemed library time and homework time. Draco soon found out, 'recreation' was not part of her vocabulary. And with that knowledge, came goal number one. He was going to make her _make_ time for recreation, and in essence, time for him. Exactly why he wanted this was beyond him, but what a Malfoy wanted, a Malfoy got. And that's exactly what he told himself as he dressed and went down to breakfast.

Hermione carefully opened up the Daily Prophet, if there was anything written in there by Delirium Manic, she was going to know before Harry. Heading off disasters was a full time job, Hermione decided, but well worth it.

Scanning the pages quickly she set it aside, smiling thankfully. Catastrophe hadn't struck this day. She readied herself for breakfast and left. In the Great Hall the house tables had been restored, temporarily, Dumbledore reminded them.

However, no one paid any attention. They sat where they wanted. Whispers among the teachers were those of quiet cheer. The gloom of the Ministry decree had had a profound effect. For the best…and because of that, they held their breath. Waiting…waiting to see what would come...they could only hope that this was not the calm before the storm.

Hermione slipped in next to Ron and Harry. "Good morning."

Receiving suspicious stares Hermione looked back up. "What?"

"Er, sleep well?" Ron asked.

Hermione leaned back. "Now that you mention it, Ron. Yes, I did sleep rather well last night. Why?"

"You're cheerful." Harry said bluntly. If there was one thing he was not, at the moment, he was definitely _not_ cheerful. He had thought he'd find an ally in Hermione…but nothing was going his way this morning. He jabbed his breakfast ham. Why did she have to be so damn cheerful? Today, of all days to be cheerful! Harry glared at the ham that he knew was laughing at him—he gave it another jab with his fork.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry didn't move, his eyes set on the ham—just waiting for it to taunt him a second time.

"Harry?"

No reply, however, the ham received another jab of fork.

"What's up mate?"

Still, no reply…need I tell you how the ham is faring?

Hermione slowly took the fork from his hand. "I think it's dead Harry."

Harry stared at his plate. "Yeah."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione placed the fork safely on the table—and out of arm's reach of the sullen boy. "You don't usually try to massacre your breakfast. We usually leave that to Ron."

"Hey!"

Hermione smiled apologetically. "My mistake Ron." She turned back to Harry who wasn't looking up from his plate. "Are you having nightmares again?" she asked softly.

Harry wanted to laugh. "Yeah. Sure."

Hermione frowned. This she understood. "Talk to me after my meeting with Malfoy, Harry. I'm sure by then I'll be in a horrible mood."

Ron glanced between his two friends. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Hermione shrugged, gathering her books.

Looking up, Harry caught the knowing look in her eyes. "Thanks."

Hermione nodded, swinging her bag over her shoulder. They may not have classes, but the professors had still handed out small assignments and Hermione was determined to keep up. One day this would all be over and she, for one, was not going to be lagging behind. "No problem. Sorry guys, but I've got loads of work to do and that aforementioned meeting with Malfoy." she made a face and Ron snorted. "How bout you guys come round after your evaluations tonight and you can help me plan the ball."

"Isn't that the Head Boys job?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh please. It's Malfoy."

"She's got a point." Harry muttered. "We'll be there."

"We will?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good. I'll see you all then."

"Hey! Hermione, is Malfoy going to be there? After all, it is his job." Ron tried to keep the grin off his face.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing Ron?" Harry whispered.

"Just you see." Ron replied, pure glee shining in his eyes.

Hermione's eyes darkened as she observed the carefree Slytherin. How was it they were doing a project together, yet she was the only one doing any of the work.

"Thanks Ron." she called as she marched over to the vain blond.

"Mind telling me now, in case I have to stop a blood bath?" Harry asked, as Hermione stalked across the room.

"Ferret boy hasn't been helping out. I just kindly reminded her." Ron said innocently. "Dibs on Hermione punching him." He glanced across the room. Hermione now looked close to livid. "Five galleons she does." Ron bet with confidence as he pointed across the room.

Harry watched Hermione stop beside Malfoy and Blaise, a few other Slytherins and a group of Ravenclaws.

Unfortunately, Hermione's attack wasn't a surprise as Malfoy saw the proud Gryffindor approach.

"I think I'll have to bet against you Ron. I don't think Malfoy's going to get punched anytime soon."

Ron looked up confused. "Man, why'd Hermione have to pick now to be all Miss Manners around Malfoy?" He watched Hermione lay a hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "Damn."

"At least he flinched." Harry said cheerfully.

* * *

Hermione felt Draco flinch and reveled with satisfaction. His gray eyes looked up at her, questioning.

"You're Head Boy, right?"

Draco looked at her as if she'd asked if the Earth was round. "Er…"

"That's what I thought." Her eyes narrowed. "Ferret."

Draco watched in semi-stunned silence as Granger stalked away.

"What was that about?"

Breaking through the shell of shock Draco jumped up. "Hell if I know, Blaise." And took off after Hermione.

Harry turned, a sweet smile on his face. "You owe me five galleons."

"Aw, come on, be a pal."

"Hey, you made the bet." Harry said cheerfully.

"What the hell was that?" Draco caught hold of her arm and yanked her to a stop. "You are bloody crazy, you know! Just going off and insulting someone like that. You should be glad I didn't curse you right there in the Great Hall."

Her eyes searched his face and instead of growing heated with anger they became liquid chocolate as she broke down in an unbecoming fit of giggles, add or subtract a snort or two. Tears licked at her laughing eyes.

"What the hell?" Draco dropped her arm and stepped back. Merlin, he hoped it wasn't contagious. "Can you please let me in on whatever's going on?"

Hermione stood up, stifling her giggles and tried to be cool and composed. She failed miserably.

"I couldn't very well let our psychologists know we are getting along, now could I? Can you suggest a better way of getting you out of there without attracting their attention?"

"You did get their attention though, theirs and half the schools." Draco pointed out, a scowl upon his lovely features.

"But they are still none the wiser." Hermione grinned.

"So you're not mad about anything?" He asked cautiously.

Hermione's hands went to her hips and she glowered. "I think you very well know what you've done wrong."

"Eh…not at this particular moment. No."

"You've taken advantage of me Malfoy, I don't like that."

"So, it's back to Malfoy now?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Looks that way."

"And how exactly have I been taking advantage of you, _Granger_?" He hid behind his coldness. No one can hurt you when you don't let them close. Cool, cold, collected, uncaring, ice. The image he hid behind. Though, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't be all those things and more if he let himself be…well, himself.

"You…" Hermione said, all business now. "Have been neglecting your obligations as Head Boy."

"Which ones? I patrol."

Hermione shook her head and allowed herself a quick scan of the heavens. "You idiot, I've seen you on patrol—if that's what you call patrolling. More like stalking if you ask me. But that's beside the point." Her eyes narrowed once more. "You are supposed to be helping me plan this ball."

Draco leaned against the wall, defeated. She'd noticed him…though stalking wasn't the term he preferred. It was more of a following—a bit of looking, who could blame him? A far reach from stalking, Draco assured himself.

"I didn't think you'd let me help." He admired his nails.

An image of strangling his thin throat passed through Hermione's head and she smirked. "Well, guess what? You are going to help, so listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once. Be in the common room at eight o'clock sharp. If you're not there…" she trailed to a stop, ways to off Malfoy floating through her mind. She grinned.

"If what, Granger? I doubt you could do anything that I would find even remotely threatening to say the least. But it might be amusing to watch you try." He regarded her coolly.

Hermione smirked a smirk he knew rather well, as it was _his_ smirk. As she took a step towards him, Draco finally realized the tight spot he'd gotten himself into—wall to his back and dangerous female at his front…wearing his god given smirk.

Hermione got right up into his face. He looked unnerved and she wanted to giggle, was this how he felt all the time? Being in total control. It was nice…very nice.

Slowly she placed her hands on his sides and lightly slid them up halfway, then back down. Feeling him shiver she felt rather proud of herself. His silver gray eyes half closed, Draco looked the very part of an angel.

"Are you so sure there's nothing I can do to torment you?" Her voice was low and Draco bit his bottom lip, he never wanted her to stop touching him. Never stop.

But she did. She severed all body contact, but her warm breath tickled his neck as she leaned in to whisper. "I'll wait for you."

Then she backed away, turning away from him. Had he been less a man, Draco would have slunk to the floor right there. Instead he remained standing—not moving—for a long, long time.

* * *

Charlotte found her cousin in the library. Not that she'd expected to find her anywhere else. From the lovely grape vine Charlotte had caught word of the invitation Hermione had extended to Ron and Harry, who had invited Miriam, who had invited Blaise, who had invited Charlotte.

What the invitation was for, however, she wasn't privy to—hence the search for her oh-so-predictable cousin.

"What's up oh studious one?"

Hermione didn't bother glancing up. She knew that voice too well.

"Can't study can you?" Charlotte smirked.

Hermione glared.

"Glare all you want cousin dearest. I'm bored, is there anything entertaining to do?"

Hermione frowned, thinking. "We have evaluations in half an hour."

"Oh, yeah, right. That yawn fest wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said entertainment. Anyway about the other night…" to her agony—she liked to torture in private—she was cut short as Harry and Ron seated themselves at the table.

Hermione smiled up at her friends. Harry looked to be in better spirits than he had that morning. Ron, however, looked down in the dumps.

"What's wrong with you Ron?" Hermione asked.

"He owes me five galleons." Harry said proudly as Ron could only glare at the floor. "Poor chap doesn't have the money to pay me…so we worked out a little deal." Harry grinned evilly.

Sitting back, Hermione could only shake her head. "What have I told you Ron about betting things you don't have?"

"Oh shut up. I've already heard it all from Miriam." Ron crossed his arms and met her eyes. "It's all your fault anyway."

"Oh really? I forced you to make a bet? That doesn't sound like me. But, I have been feeling rather out of sorts lately. I could have."

Charlotte snorted, covering her laughter with a blatantly fake cough.

Rolling his eyes Ron muttered. "If you didn't have to go all nice on Malfoy this morning, I would be five galleons richer." She'd really let him down. And Harry, what was up with him? He wasn't being fair in the least. His punishment for gambling was worth more than the dumb five galleons he'd bet. Damn friend was probably going to charge interest as well, talk about adding insult to injury. Talk about overkill. His thoughts had put him in a rather foul mood. Ron glared at Hermione.

"What's he got to do?" Charlotte asked.

Harry grinned. "Let's just say…" Ron cut him off.

"Shut up right now or you're going to need dental work." But this only caused Harry to laugh, and Hermione to pat him sympathetically on the hand and Charlotte to gaze at him intently. He had long ago found that being on the receiving end of her gaze was not very pleasant.

"Oh, just sod off." He stormed out of the library, ignoring Madame Pince's fierce gaze of disapproval and the laughter of three soon to be ex-friends behind him.

* * *

Draco was in the common room by eight, before eight if he was honest with himself. He was all prepared to talk to Hermione, get it all out. Well, get some of it out. He definitely did not like being played with. For example, the hall incident—she had totally played him. So un-Gryffindor like of her. _I must be a rather bad influence._ But that didn't change the fact that she had been playing with him. After much thought, Draco decided he didn't like that. Not at all. He stood as the portrait swung open and Hermione entered.

Followed by Blaise, Potter, Weasley, annoying cousin of Hermione's, and the red heads cousin—who he'd yet to get to know on a last name basis.

Draco knew his mouth was slightly ajar, but he couldn't find the right command that would close it. He felt…numb. She'd done it again. Of course, she'd done this to torture him, humiliate him. Thank Merlin his tongue still seemed to be in working order. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione eyed him shrewdly. "I invited them to help me plan the ball, and you…" She added before he could stalk off to his bedroom. "Will be staying. Understood?" She didn't wait for his answer. "Lets all get to work."

Though it was awkward at first, everyone fell into comfortable chatter that steadily grew more rambunctious as time passed.

"So what exactly are these _restrictions_? I'm dying to know."

Hermione nodded at Draco.

"What?"

"Tell them."

His eyes narrowed. "Maybe I don't want to."

Hermione sent him a look and Draco found his hands pushing through the pile of notes and ideas, finally pulling out the stiff parchment upon which were listed the 'restrictions'. All of which he found rather peculiar as there was really no point, rhyme or reason to any of it.

He grudgingly began to read. "Head boy, Draco Malfoy—that's me."

"We know that Malfoy." Ron groaned.

"Wasn't sure, after all it is you, Weasley."

"Just read." Hermione said shortly.

"…And Head Girl, Hermione Granger, are hereby assigned to arrange a fall ball, see to decorations, entertainment, and see to it that the below listed requirements are met to standard."

"Wait a second. They aren't going to do anything?"

"Not really."

"What's the point of this?"

Hermione and Draco shrugged. "We aren't really sure."

"Oh, sorry, continue please."

"These requirements have been set forth by the panel of Psychological Review of Hogwarts' Students and Staff."

"What! Does that mean they're doing this psycho babble on the professors as well?" Harry asked surprised.

"I think they are. I wonder if they'll sack Professor Trelawney?" Her eyes grew far away.

"She's not that bad Hermione."

"Speak for yourself Blaise."

"Please!" Draco called out. "Do _not_ interrupt." He shook the paper before continuing. "The requirements set forth must and will be upheld and any decisions may be overturned by Dr. Danna or Dr. McGale as they see fit. The requirements are as follows; Students shall be paired together at the discretion of Dr's Danna and McGale. Paired students must attend the ball together, sit together and are required to participate in planned events set by the Head Boy and Girl and approved by Dr's Danna and McGale."

"Hang on a second…they are going to pair us up?" Miriam looked around the room. "They're just going to randomly select some guy that I'll have to spend the entire night with?"

"Oh, I doubt it will be random."

"And these activities? That's why we're here, right? To help you guys out?" Blaise asked, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"You sound excited."

"Let's just say that mischief is my middle name."

Draco nodded. "He's not kidding."

"So, does anyone have any ideas?" Hermione asked and wasn't at all surprised when Blaise jumped into action.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, the other's left. Draco had to admit that it was going to be a kick ass ball, even with the restrictions. But with the help of the others, they had found ways around them. He couldn't believe that Gryffindors, the Golden Trio to be exact, could possibly come up with such great ideas for deceiving authority. They'd obviously had practice, he concluded as he sighed—the door closing behind the last departed. Leaving him and Hermione alone. Which was exactly what he wanted.

"Well, that went well. Thank you for helping out. I appreciate it." Hermione packed up her things and started for her room. The hand on her wrist, however, brought her up short. She glanced behind her. "Need something?"

Draco moved, taking her things and setting them neatly onto the coffee table. "You gave me a considerable shock this morning—and I don't care for being shocked. Then you did it again this evening…and I've come to the decision that I really do not like it."

"Well, isn't it just peachy that I don't care?" Hermione tugged on her wrist. "Are you done yet?"

"Hardly." He sat down and tugged her along with him. She was caught off balance and came tumbling down into his lap.

"Draco!" Hermione screamed as she tried to stand.

"Ah good, no longer being referred to as Malfoy." Draco gripped her wrist. "I'd stop all that wriggling though, or you'll be sorry."

Catching his less than subtle meaning Hermione stilled, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "Just let go and we can forget this happened." She was scared. Hermione tried not to relax, but…god she hated herself…it actually felt good. Comfortably leaning against Malfoy's chest, his arms surrounding her. It felt good, just to be held. Unconsciously she melted into the embrace.

Draco turned his head slightly, feeling her soft hair against his face. "Did I ever tell you drive me crazy?" She stiffened slightly.

Cautiously, Hermione evaluated her situation before answering. "No."

"Well you do, absolutely make me insane."

Hermione actually felt the wheels in her head turning. This was all too cliché. But she couldn't help it. "Since when?"

Draco brought a hand to her hair, tangling his finger in her long strands. "I won't lie to you—I seriously don't know. I'm not even sure what it is I feel. You're just fascinating. I've always watched you."

"Yeah, I know. Your insults do seem to hit home most of the time."

"I'm a jerk."

"Won't disagree with you."

"I don't think I've changed."

"I don't think so either."

Hermione couldn't resist. He'd said she was fascinating. Well, that sure seemed like a lie to her. None of this seemed real. "I'm boring."

Draco nodded. "Yes, that too."

"Hey!" Hermione grinned and hit him with her balled hand. "That wasn't very nice. And here I thought you'd finally ceased being a monster."

Draco caught her hand in his and laced his fingers in hers, watching the way they fit together, the way it felt. "Not a monster Hermione, just being honest." His other hand went to her waist—pausing. "You never let yourself have any fun." He murmured, and because of their positions she didn't see the smile on his face.

"Well—" Hermione was cut off as she sucked air in shock as fingers began to tickle her sides. "Draco! Stop!" She was shrieking now as she was held captive and could do nothing to escape his hand. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she laughed. "Stop, stop now or I'll get you!" she cried.

Draco stopped. "You've already got me."

He lowered his head and kissed her.

* * *

A/N: Do me the biggest favor and review!


	8. On the Stroke of Midnight

* * *

**Evaluate This!**

**Chapter 8**

**On the stroke of Midnight**

* * *

She'd been given less than three weeks to prepare the ball and time seemed to speed up. It was so unfair. Hermione gripped the towering stack of papers and books and quills. What did she need all this stuff for anyway? Carefully moving the stack aside, Hermione glowered at yet another. Where had this one come from?

Even she did not know the answer. The last week was a blur, and now she was less than seven days away from what was turning out to be the most stressful project of her life.

She glanced at the list in front of her, written in her neat, precise handwriting. She picked up a quill and dipped it in an open well of ink.

"Well, I've sent for decorations." She made a fast check next to the item. "I've taken care of music." Another check. "Drinks and food. Chairs and tables. Lighting. Charms…" Hermione trailed off.

What had she forgotten? She tapped the quill lightly on the tabletop. Her eyes grew wide. "Costumes!"

It was supposed to be a costume ball. But how were the students to get costumes, with less than a week left? She knew she had nothing that would qualify. Hurriedly, Hermione abandoned her lists. Priority number one, get permission for Hogsmead trip…immediately.

She knocked on the office door. She'd purposely gone to Mr. McGale, as Ms. Danna would deny her anything—out of spite.

"Come in." Mr. McGale was sitting at his desk, his hands folded. "Why, Ms. Granger what a pleasant surprise. Take a seat."

Hermione sat and waited.

"Is there something you need? I must admit I am rather impressed by the way you and Mr. Malfoy have been handling the arrangements." He smiled.

Hermione nodded. "Well, that's the reason I'm here. The ball I mean."

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes. As you know, you and Ms. Danna requested for the ball to be a costume ball."

"Yes, I do recall."

"Well, you see, the problem is that we haven't any costumes. I need to schedule a Hogsmead day for the students, to allow them time to obtain a costume."

Mr. McGale frowned. "That is a problem."

Hermione sighed. "Yeah. It is."

"Let me just consort quickly with my colleague." He turned his back to her, walking out of her line of sight.

Hermione waited patiently for his return. When he reappeared she smiled up at him. But her smile slowly slipped off her face as he sat down, shaking his head.

"Ms. Danna and myself don't believe that a Hogsmead trip is the best direction to take."

"What do you mean? What other option is there?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger. But you'll have to figure something out. I'm sure you and Mr. Malfoy will come up with something _brilliant_ in no time."

"But Mr. McGale, how is anyone supposed to get costumes? A trip to Hogsmead will allow everyone a chance to obtain one." He was still shaking his head. Hermione took a deep breath. "Then how are we supposed to have a costume ball?"

Mr. McGale leaned back in the chair, folding his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry to say that that is _your_ problem to solve, Ms. Granger. As head girl, everyone is looking up to you to make this a memorable experience. I suggest you find another way to get the students costumes. There will be no Hogsmead trip."

Draco watched Hermione storm out of the psychiatrist's office. "I guess that's a no?"

Hermione turned to him. "Damn right it was a no! He's making this as difficult as possible because he wants us to fail!" Hermione shoved a finger into Draco's chest. "We are _not_ going to fail!"

"So my offering to go talk to him isn't going to help."

"I don't think it will change anything. I don't want to fail." she sighed, defeated.

Calmly Draco removed Hermione's finger, which was still pressed into his chest. "Of course we're not going to fail, Granger. Just calm down now. They're getting to you. You're just stressed. Not thinking clearly. You'll be fine. Just calm down."

Hermione frowned. "But they're being such imbeciles. It doesn't even make sense, except we want to go to Hogsmead and they're denying it just because they can. It's so, so…" Hermione took a deep breath and kicked the wall behind Draco. "Stupid!" as if it was an afterthought. "Ouch."

"Now look, you've gone and hurt yourself."

Gritting her teeth against the pain. "I did not hurt myself, ferret."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. He was bound to be stuck with that nickname for the rest of his life. _How _fitting he thought sarcastically, even as he backed away from Hermione, hands up.

"Then come on mudblood." He said affectionately as Hermione growled. "We better get back to our dorm. We've got to come up with costumes, somehow."

Hermione thought for a second, her eyes still narrowed and her breathing fast and shallow—she was about to really lose it—and what better way to calm ones nerves than to glare at the famous Draco Malfoy?

How in all seven hells was she going to supply the whole school with costumes before the ball? "The library." She said, and limped off it it's direction.

Draco watched her limp as they walked—she'd never let him help her, so he didn't try. He sighed and wanted nothing more than to run back to Mr. McGale's office and beg on his hands and knees to let them go to Hogsmead. He hated the library.

* * *

What seemed to be hours later Draco was less than positive what exactly it was he was looking for. Hermione had told him, of course, but since then his mind had forgotten. Instead, it had wandered down avenues as he'd looked through spells and charms and page after page of who knew what. Every once in a while one of the pages would catch his eye and he'd pause to read and wonder what he was supposed to be doing.

He picked up _Enchanting Charms _and flipped it open, smirking. This was definitely a book for women, witches. No male in his right mind would be looking through this. And no male would have written it.

However, Draco wasn't exactly in his right mind, so he continued to turn the pages—insight into the female mind. He found it curious that there were so many charms to make one's self-beautiful. He grinned to himself; this book would be a perfect gift for Pansy. A double insult as it would imply that one; she was ugly, and two; that he didn't know her very well.

Which was a lie, after all when a person hangs on you twenty-four seven you usually do end up knowing a whole lot about them. But that wasn't exactly the point and Draco knew that. Pansy, he knew, hated reading and couldn't perform charms if her life depended on it.

He scanned the page open in front of him. _On the stroke of Midnight,_ hmmm…Draco looked up at Hermione. "What am I looking for again, Granger?"

Annoyed, Hermione didn't even bother looking up. "A charm that will produce unique costumes that can be used for several hours."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Draco heard Hermione growl again. Unfortunately for him, this ball had her stressed beyond any point he'd seen before. His eyes returned to the page.

On the stroke of Midnight

Charm Fourteen hundred and twelve

On the stroke of Midnight was invented by Ethyl Mahouts—a talented witch who worked for a prosperous family, she was also the renowned godmother of a muggle, known as Cinderella. Even today, the life story of Cinderella and her 'fairy godmother' is told throughout the muggle world to children in what is commonly known as a fairy tale. In the wizarding world, however, the story of Ethyl and Cinderella is an actual part of history. On the stroke of Midnight has been used ever since by witches to turn ordinary garments into extravagant gowns or corresponding clothing as they see fit. The charm, consequently, wears off by midnight, hence the name On the stroke of Midnight.

To use this charm, one must first be a magic capable witch. You needent be of a proper age, as in some charms, just capable of performing semi-complex charms. The garment to be enchanted must be on the person in question at the time of transformation. If the charm is performed on an unclothed figure serious side effects will occur—side effects that are near to impossible to reverse.

!USE THIS CHARM WITH EXTREME CAUTION!

Draco broke out laughing. Hermione brought her eyes to his laughing face.

"What is your problem?" Hermione demanded, her eyes rimmed red from tiredness.

Draco couldn't stop, he laughed only harder. "I'm okay."

"I beg to differ, Malfoy."

"No, seriously, I am. Its just…" Draco calmed down. "Its just that I think I've found something that might work."

Hermione reached across and stole the book from him, flipping it around so that she could read the text.

"My god, you did find something." Murmuring, Hermione rolled her finger down the page as she read. "I can't believe it. I should have known!"

"Can't believe I found it? Well, yes, I am rather talented at these sorts of things."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no…don't be silly. I can't believe I never thought about that! That is so cool. I loved Cinderella as a child."

"Uh huh." Draco mumbled. So much for being the one who _found _it. "So, are we done here now?"

Hermione nodded absently.

"I'm going to go back to the room then." Draco hinted.

Hermione nodded absently.

"Are you going to stay here?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Okay then." Draco shook his head as he left, Hermione barely noticing him as she waved her hand passively, her nose stuck in a book.

How fitting, Draco thought as the door to the library closed behind him.

Deciding it was time for supper—actually the growl in his stomach was what tipped him off to the fact—he made his way to the Great Hall and sat down at an empty table unsure as to what the rule of the moment was concerning seating. It wasn't long before Blaise joined him and to his regret, Pansy.

"Oh, Draco." Pansy launched herself on him. "You poor, poor, poor boy. Having to spend all day with that mudblood. Now, now, it's okay. I'm here."

Cringing Draco tried not to choke on the pumpkin juice. "Pansy…" he started awkwardly as she cuddled into his side. He tried to shake her off, to scoot down, but her grip was tight—a real anaconda.

"Oh, Draco, I've missed you so much!"

"Err, I can't say the same Pansy." Draco mumbled, shuddering as her hand crept up to the back of his neck and began to play with his hair.

He looked up from his food as Charlotte and Miriam sat next to Blaise.

"Hey guys." Blaise greeted them cheerfully.

"Blaise." Miriam nodded.

"Having fun, Malfoy?"

Draco glared at Charlotte. "Not really. Your cousin had me locked in the library all day." That, Draco decided, was not the smartest thing to say.

"Oh! My poor Drakie, trapped all day in the library with that…" Pansy glanced to Charlotte and obviously valued her pathetic excuse of a life. "Oh, my poor Drakie." She ran her hand down his hair, stroking his head like she would a cat. "You poor, poor, thing. Don't worry now though. I'm here. I'll never leave you. Never."

Charlotte smirked at the two. Pansy was all over the blond boy and the blond boy…well, as far as Charlotte could figure; he was getting what he deserved.

"Are you okay Malfoy?" Miriam asked at the slight green tinge that had overcome his pale skin.

Draco mouthed 'no', while Pansy talked. "Oh, Drakie is so lost without me. He's much better now that I'm here."

Charlotte sneered. "Oh yeah, he looks a lot better." She nodded her head. "Just peachy."

Blaise laughed. "So, you're really Granger's cousin?"

Charlotte's eyes narrowed. "Yep."

Blaise held his hands up. "No problem. Just making conversation."

"That's nice." Charlotte replied coldly. Blaise only grinned at her.

Draco was now fully encompassed by Pansy's arms.

"Uh, a little help guys." He moved his eyes from them to Pansy back to them. "Please."

The three sat solemnly across from him. "Nope." They replied in unison.

"Not a chance. I'm rather enjoying this." Blaise said, a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

"Much too entertaining." Miriam agreed.

And that horrid cousin of Hermione's only smirked. That girl had problems, Draco decided.

"Yeah. Besides the entertainment factor…it really doesn't look like you need help." Added Blaise as he began to eat.

Draco glared. "Pansy, do you mind…" Draco pushed at her arms. "Getting off me for a moment. I'm hungry." If he'd thought this was going to work, he was sadly mistaken.

"Oh, my poor Drakie…" Pansy cooed. She picked up his fork and eyed the plate of food he'd helped himself to before she'd arrived. Scooping up some mashed potatoes she held it up to him. "Here, darling, let me help you." Draco's eyes widened in horror and his mouth opened in protest—only to have a fork full of mashed potatoes shoved promptly in.

Pansy smiled lovingly, lowering the fork. "See how much he loves me?" she asked as she stroked Draco's cheek.

Charlotte eyed the now green Malfoy. "He absolutely loves you Pansy."

Pansy forked some green beans. "Come on baby, open up…"

Blaise, Miriam, and Charlotte had to set down their own forks and cover their faces but could do nothing about the laughter as Pansy continued to feed an alarmed and embarrassed Malfoy.

"Better luck next time." Blaise gave Malfoy a friendly shoulder pat before he and the others' left Malfoy to his suffering.

* * *

"Aw, man did you see his face!" Blaise said excitedly. "That is a classic."

"I thought you were his friend." Miriam said quietly as they made their way to the Slytherin common room.

"I am." Blaise grinned. "I just appreciate great things like _that_. Classic." He muttered again.

"Has she always been like that?"

"Who? Pansy" Charlotte nodded. "Oh yeah! Malfoy may not be promised to her but they were together since childhood. She was basically the only one he had his age until he started Hogwarts."

"So that's the reason for his sunny disposition." Miriam grinned.

"Anyone who had to put up with that for years is bound to be emotionally scared."

Miriam grinned. "No kidding. Think she'll make it all the way to dessert?"

Blaise grinned; he liked the way she thought. "I'd say she does. Though I won't be around to see it, I think I might just laugh myself to death."

"Not to mention that the moment Malfoy is released he'd strangle you with his bare hands." Charlotte added.

* * *

Hermione could still remember the story of Cinderella.

The fact that it was indeed a true story and that she'd never thought to look it up before seriously pissed her off. It should have been obvious. Hermione shook her head as she read. Well, better late than never, she thought as she scanned the books in front of her.

She was able to find seven books with Madam Pince's help on the subject. She'd then lugged them all back to the common room she shared with Malfoy.

In front of her was a long mirror she'd conjured. Hermione referred once again to _Enchanting Charms_.

_Stand in front of a mirror, clothed, with wand at your side._

Hermione checked herself in the mirror. She was clothed, wand at her side.

_Picture in your mind's eye, a setting and time, where you perceive yourself to be beautiful._

Hermione grimaced. She never really thought about being beautiful. Was she? No one had ever really told her she was beautiful. She'd been told she was brainy, smart, cute…did that make her beautiful. In her vocabulary cute and beautiful were in two different leagues that had no business associating with one another.

"Where would I believe I was beautiful?" Hermione thought for a while before settling on something that disturbed her slightly. Her wedding. If such a thing would ever take place, Hermione imagined she would look beautiful.

Hopefully anyway. "But with my luck…" Hermione muttered.

In her minds eye she imagined the setting—a valley deep in the mountains, spring flowers peeking through the winter's snow. A bright blue sky, and clean sunlight lighting up the snow, to make it glow. There would be white wine, even if she wouldn't drink it, in long stemmed glasses. Everything would be crystal and clear.

Of course, she rationalized, this would never happen. The entire thing was preposterous. No one got married in a spring snow.

But…

In her minds eye she imagined the time—after the age of twenty-five and not a second earlier.

In her minds eye she imagined it all, with her wand at her side and herself in the mirror.

She read the last instruction.

_! THIS CHARM CAN BE VERY DANGEROUS!_

_To complete the charm, repeat the incantation below:_

_By my mind's eye_

_I see myself from rags to riches_

_In my minds eye I see myself_

_Beautiful_

_By the power of white elm wood and unicorn_

_Make my eyes see_

_What truly,_

_Is inside of me_

_Special note each time charm is performed there is a different result. This charm should not be used if you know exactly what you want. The charm fits to your current mood, perception and many other factors that change results accordingly_

Hermione read it through a few times, before taking her place before the mirror. Her wand at her side, her mind's eye set, and spoke the incantation.

"By my mind's eye, I see myself from rags to riches, in my minds eye I see myself beautiful, by the power of white elm wood and unicorn, make my eyes see, what truly is inside of me."

She closed her eyes, and waited.

How long was this supposed to take anyway?

Behind her she heard something thud to the floor. She spun around in shock, opening her eyes.

Draco Malfoy was sprawled on the floor, his eyes wide, and his jaw hanging open as if unhinged.

"What is it? Did you trip?" Hermione rushed over. "Are you okay?"

Draco managed a nod. "Granger?" he asked as she pulled him up.

"Yeah? Did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Draco focused on her hand. "Three."

"Okay, your eyesight's fine."

"Oh, good, I'm not hallucinating." Draco continued to stare.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Draco looked her up and down. "Hermione? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Uh, no." Hermione said. "Why?"

"Um…I don't know. Have you been messing with charms for the ball?"

Hermione gasped. "The charm! Did it work?" She rushed over to the mirror.

"Yeah, I'd say it worked." Draco murmured to himself as he came to stand behind her. "Wouldn't you say?"

Hermione didn't answer instead Draco saw her sway.

"Hey, you okay?" Draco caught her as she fell. "Wow. Granger, you fainted."

Shaking his head he gently laid her down on the couch. "I seriously can't believe you fainted." He smiled, looking down at her sleeping form. Charm or no charm, he realized something and it made his whole body ache.

She was beautiful.

* * *

Hermione woke with a god-awful crick in her neck. Moving her hand back to massage her neck her hand brushed skin…someone else's skin. An arm—Hermione's eyes popped open.

"Oh my god!" she cried, her body jerked up and she fell off the couch. "Ouch!"

"Oh my god! She repeated as she peeked up from the floor and promptly ducked back down. "Oh my god." She cringed. She'd slept with Draco Malfoy! Oh my god, oh my god…Hermione quickly patted herself down. Oh thank heaven's I'm wearing clothes. She relaxed and took another peek at the sleeping Slytherin.

Okay, Hermione, think! What happened last night, she played with her skirt as she thought. Wait a second! Skirt! What the hell!

Hermione scrambled to her feet and looked down. Skirt…puffy…white…her mind registered the information. "Puffy white skirt." She mumbled. Blinking at the layers of fabric covering her legs. She was having trouble breathing. In fact, she couldn't breathe, her chest couldn't expand due to…Hermione spotted the mirror in the corner of the room and carefully made her way over to it.

"A corset!" she screamed, hyperventilating at the sight that greeted her in the mirror. The hyperventilating, Hermione thought lightly, was not the smartest thing to do when you have limited air anyway.

"So that's what they call it. Don't know why those ever went out of fashion."

Hermione spun around. The blond was still lying down, but his eyes were open and he had propped himself up on his side. Hermione blushed.

"Wha…what happened!" she looked from Draco to the mirror, from the mirror to Draco. "I…I am wearing a freaking dress!" she cried.

Draco nodded. "Yes, you are. And it suits you."

Hermione calmed down enough to cross her arms and glare. "What the hell happened?"

"Well, I suppose I should be honest with you. Last night…" Draco trailed off, his features serious. "You professed your undying love for me and I proposed…" he trailed off again, watching Hermione swallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "And you accepted."

Now in a full on panic Hermione turned away from Malfoy. "I can't breathe." Her fingers pulled absently at the strings of the corset.

Alarmed Draco rushed over to her. He could hear how constricted her breathing was in the squeaking gasps that escaped her lips. He might know nothing when it came to how the body worked, but he did know that air was necessary for life—and he could tell she wasn't getting enough of it.

"Calm down, calm down." His fingers loosened the laces of the corset slightly. "You're going to pass out on me again." Her breathing was still too rapid. Draco turned her around and shook her once. "Calm down!"

Hermione nodded frantically. Easier said than done, but her breathing slowed slightly. She took a large, shaky breath.

Feeling slightly bad about all this, Draco placed a hand on her bare shoulder. "I was only kidding."

Hermione smacked him.

"I deserved that."

"No shit you deserved that. You could have killed me."

"You weren't near dying." Draco mumbled and led Hermione back to the couch.

_Enchanting Charms_ lay open on the coffee table in front of them. "Do you see that right there?" He pointed to the words "this charm can be very dangerous". "I think I know why now. Is that thing comfortable?" he asked pointing to the ivory corset.

Hermione grimaced. "Only when I'm standing."

"You want to stand?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco helped her to her feet. "So…are we going to have to look for another charm?" Hermione shook her head no.

"We don't have time. I'll just have to warn everyone first, I guess. I was just going to give them all the charm, but…" she felt faint, gripping Draco's arm, she kept herself upright. "But, I think that that is not in their best interest. Besides, I read that only women can perform the charm. It can be done on guys but a woman still has to initiate it. So…"

Draco nodded. "You've got your work cut out for you, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to help?" Hermione looked at him in surprise. "I know, strange isn't it? Me volunteering."

"It's nice."

Draco brushed his lips over her hair. "I think that's the first time anyone's said anything with the word 'nice' in it to me."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah…" His embrace was warm and comforting, but she felt another need very badly. "Um…I'm kind of hungry."

Draco grimaced. Bad things happened to good people in the Great Hall. He didn't think he'd ever go back in there.

"You didn't eat dinner did you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Lunch?"

"Missed that one as well."

"Well, breakfast is about six hours away. I'll go get you something."

Hermione looked outside. "I didn't realize it was still night."

"Just about midnight."

"Oh." Hermione looked down at her dress. "Then this thing will be disappearing soon." Thank Merlin.

Draco nodded. "What would you like?"

"Hmm?"

"To eat? I'll go get you something."

Hermione twirled slightly, testing out the dress. "Um, whatever you pick is fine as long as it isn't poisoned." She smiled riley at him.

Draco smirked. A month ago that was exactly what he would have done…now he was more likely to drop something else into her goblet.

And maybe he would.

"I'll be back."

Hermione sighed as the portrait swung shut behind him. She was alone, finally. She wanted to look at herself in the mirror before the charm wore off.

She approached the mirror cautiously. In front of it she tried hard not to think about waking up next to Malfoy. She tried to observe only.

The dress had a corset top, ivory with pearls and shredded lace. The skirt billowed out about four inches from her hips and was white and ivory, lace and satin.

It's beautiful, she thought.

She heard a clock chime twelve.

And watched the beauty melt away.

"Just what I thought." She said disgustedly. "Just an illusion." An illusion, however, that was perfect for the ball. She smiled, coming back to her senses—breaking through the daze the dress had caused her.

Of course you're not beautiful, get a grip, it was just a charm. Hermione turned the mirror to the wall.

"Oh well."

The house elves bounced off the wall with his request and had soon supplied him with enough food to feed everyone in Hogwarts, twice over. He brought everything up, glad once again, that his trip was uneventful.

Before he entered the common room, he removed a small vial from his pocket and poured it into Hermione's goblet.

"Drakie!"

Pansy stepped from the shadows. "Late night snack, my love? Didn't I feed you enough?" she laced her arm around his waist. "Why thank you darling. I'm parched." She drank the pumpkin juice and set the goblet back on the tray.

"Shit Pansy, you are dense." Draco put the platter of food on the ground and turned to Pansy. He was going to have to take her somewhere for the potion to ware off. Of course leaving her to roam the hallways was a nice alternative…but who knew whom she'd run into. That could be very bad, Draco decided.

After several minutes of walking aimlessly, Draco chose a classroom, shoved Pansy in and closed the door.

"Drakie, want to know a secret."

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, I don't."

"Draco, I don't like you at all. But I'm going to marry you."

His eyes widened, "Is that so?"

"Uh huh. I've been planning it for ages."

"If you don't like me, why would you want to marry me?"

Pansy stumbled into a chair. Then looked up at him, her expression saying clearly 'well, aren't you stupid'.

"Simply so that no one else can." She ran a hand through her hair. "And then, you'll end up loving me anyway. Because I'll be the only thing you can have."

Draco knew what she was talking about. In the magical world, marriage was forever.

"And how were you going to make me marry you?"

Pansy danced in a circle. "I know something you don't know."

"Oh really."

"Uh huh."

"About what?"

"About who, is a better question Drakie dear."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Who then?"

"Granger, Drakie. I know something you don't know." She taunted him. "And you'll never know. She won't tell you. I won't tell you. No one will ever tell you. And you want to know something?"

"What?"

"I'm the only thing you'll ever have."

* * *

Hermione wondered what was taking Malfoy so long—hopefully he wasn't giving the house elves too much trouble. She only wanted a sandwich. She opened the portrait and swept the empty hallway. Well, not all the way empty, Hermione noted as she bent down to pick up the tray of food. But no Malfoy. Shrugging Hermione went back inside to enjoy her dinner.

"Oh well." she mumbled taking a bite of the sandwich. Sleepy she sat the tray down, finished the sandwich, and lay down on the couch to sleep.

Half an hour later Draco returned to find Hermione asleep on the couch. He eyed her for a moment, Pansy's words echoing in his mind. Her face was relaxed, a small smile tugged at her lips. She was curled up like a child. Draco shook his head. There was no way that Hermione had a secret. Hermione and secret were two things that did not go together, no matter how you looked at them. Smiling, Draco wondered if he should leave her there, or if he should take her to her room.

But someone was knocking on the door. Draco groaned. "I've had enough of people for one night." He grumbled as he opened the door and his eyes darkened automatically. Great, scarhead. "What do you want?"

"Is Hermione awake?"

"No."

"May I come in?"

"No."

"Too bad." Harry pushed his way into the room.

"You're not going to wake her are you?"

Harry glanced at Malfoy who was looking at the couch. Hermione was peacefully asleep. Harry's face softened and he wondered if he should just come back later.

But he couldn't wait. "I have to." He said simply.

He shook Hermione's shoulder gently.

"Go away Malfoy. I just got to sleep."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Harry?"

Draco hated the way she said scarfaces' name.

"Yeah. I need to talk to you."

Hermione sat up, alert. "What's wrong?"

Harry took her hand and led her into her room. Draco sat on the couch and waited calmly. Well, to be honest, he was _not _calm. He was fuming inside. He glanced into the mirror across from him, almost expecting to see steam coming from his ears.

* * *

"What's wrong Harry?"

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm having dreams again." He said simply.

"Oh."

Harry lay down, staring at the ceiling.

"Does it hurt?" he nodded. "You want to tell me about it?"

Harry looked up. "I'm scared Hermione. I've always been able to take care of it, you know?" she nodded. "First year and second year, third and fourth. I was always able to deal with whatever Voldermort threw at me…but."

"I know." she sat down and put her arm over his shoulder. "Have you told Ron?"

"I haven't told anybody. But we've got evaluations tomorrow and…and I don't know what I'm going to do. I feel like…I feel alone."

Hermione knew what he meant and she didn't try to tell him he wasn't, she didn't try to assure him she was there for him. Because she knew, someday she wouldn't be, someday something would happen. She couldn't make a promise or even assure him when she knew, one day, she wouldn't be able to keep it.

They sat in silence for a long, long time.

Finally, Harry looked at her and smiled. "Sorry I woke you."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You can always wake me. I'm your friend and I love you."

Harry hugged her. "Thanks." He stood and went to the door. "Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams."

Harry winked, making Hermione smile. Then he was gone.

Draco watched Potter leave. He looked at the clock. A whole forty-seven minutes had passed. What the hell had they done for forty-seven minutes?

Hermione emerged from her room looking tired and ruffled. "Hey. You're still up."

"Couldn't sleep."

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "Oh."

Draco watched her look towards the door Potter had just left through.

"Thanks for the food."

Draco looked up. "Oh, yeah, you're welcome."

She sat down on the couch beside him.

"So, err, what did Potter want?"

"He just needed to be with someone."

Draco raised an eyebrow and Hermione elaborated. "Sometimes, people just need a friend, someone to hold, someone to just be there for them when they're scared."

Draco smiled. "You telling me scarhead came running to you because he had a nightmare?"

Hermione hit him. "Ouch."

"No, he didn't come running to me because of a nightmare."

"Then why?"

"Because I'm his friend." Hermione said simply.

He wrapped an arm around her, confused—and was further confused when Hermione scooted closer. Wrapping both arms around her, he leaned back against the couch. Hermione laid her head on his chest. She was probably very tired, not thinking straight, Draco mused.

"Who knew I'd be in the arms of the enemy?" Hermione mumbled softly.

Draco coughed and started to move but Hermione laid a hand on his. "Don't."

He stilled.

"Sometimes, even I need to be held."

And he did just that. Long after she had fallen asleep.

Draco wondered if the world would look different when he woke in the morning.

Maybe we're cursed, to repeat

The same mistake, day in and day out

Wandering through a blinding fog

A fog that never fades, never fades

We knew it wouldn't be easy

Easy to bend the bars of our self-made cage

We are better off than homeless dogs

But not by far

How many lies do I have to tell myself?

So that I won't go back, won't look back

Back to the arms of the enemy

Back to be held by the demons of my soul

Back to the arms of the enemy

Back to my enemy, to be held

And someone to hold

* * *

A/N: As always, leave a review!


	9. Pansy Proposes

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* * *

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Evaluate This!

**Chapter 9**

**Pansy Proposes

* * *

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In the morning, the world did look different. But not in the way Draco had thought it would. Had he had any notion in his head, he would have thought that the day would be brighter, clearer, everything beautiful.

After all it wasn't every day that Hermione Granger fell asleep on your chest. Draco smiled at the memory. So of course he'd figured it would be a nice day, at least, when he opened his eyes.

However, reality was a very nasty bite in the ass.

First off, the castle was filled with an unearthly chill.

It seeped through the layers he'd dawned, making him hunch over to conserve warmth. Another thing, Draco noticed was the deadly silence.

His steps echoed down the dark, deserted hallway. Everything was dark—foreboding. Draco shivered. He should be used to this; after all, it mirrored the place he'd grown up in. But this, this wasn't Malfoy Manor Draco had assured himself. This was Hogwarts, what seemed normal at the manner was very out of place here.

Draco didn't like the change. He glanced out the windows as he walked.

Gray.

Rain.

Bleak, dreary sky.

The lightning zipped across the clouded heavens.

Shaking his head, Draco was glad to find more students in the hallway.

The student's of Hogwarts crept…no joke, crept as if waiting for the grim reaper to appear around the corner and slice their heads off.

He wasn't exactly sure why the outside weather mirrored the inside of Hogwarts perfectly.

Everyone was distant from one another. There was no talking, no laughing. Friends passed friends without so much as a hello, how do you do.

The whole thing gave Draco the creeps. What was going?

You may be asking yourself the same question, just as clueless as Draco Malfoy, or you may already know the answer—as did most of the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At least, those who had gotten a glimpse of the parchment outside the Great Hall did.

Draco neared the entrance to the Great Hall, only to find it blocked by a large crowd of students.

Whispers were being quietly thrown about as Draco tried to see what was going on.

"What's up with everyone Blaise?"

Blaise pointed to the parchment nailed to the doors. "Basically phase two of the evil sadistic psychologists has been announced."

"A less colorful explanation Blaise."

"We don't really know…"

"What do you mean?"

Blaise eyed Draco for a moment. "I wasn't lying when I told you that phase two has been announced."

"Phase two would be…" Draco prodded.

"That's the point Draco. All's it says is phase two."

"Well then, what's everyone so worked up about?"

Blaise looked after Draco as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Shaking his head he followed.

They sat together at an empty table.

"That isn't the point Draco. It's the fact that all's it says is phase two."

"So?"

"Did you shut your brain off before coming down here or something?"

"No." Draco scooped some eggs on his plate, a slice of toast…he contemplated the butter and jelly before picking up the jelly. "Why do you ask?"

"You just seem rather unconcerned that the sadistic rulers have announced a new law that no one knows anything about."

Draco shrugged. "It can't be that bad."

"Can't be that bad? Who are you and what have you done with my Malfoy?"

Draco cringed as he picked up his toast. "Didn't know I was a thing, Blaise." He took a bite.

"You know what I mean. Why the change of…heart?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny, a change of heart. Good one." Draco chomped down on his breakfast. "There's been no change of heart. I just woke up in a non-caring mood when it comes to the…" Draco pointed at the head table where the psychologists sat. "Those idiots up there."

"Okay. If you say so." Blaise peeled an orange as he looked around. "Um, Malfoy, would you want me to warn you if a certain person was making their way over here?"

Draco set down his toast. "What?"

"A certain someone." Blaise whispered. "Is coming up behind you."

"Who?"

Blaise's eyes bulged, but he didn't speak.

"Good morning Drakie."

_She calls me on the phone  
Hoping that I'm home  
And that I'm all alone  
But when I say hello,  
I only hear dial tone  
She thinks that I'm her own  
Outside my window she crept,  
Watching my every step_

Draco's eyes closed and Blaise broke the awkward silence. "Hey Pansy."

"Blaise dear." Pansy nodded at him and he began to get up to leave. "Oh, Blaise, don't go. I need a witness."

"Witness?" Blaise said, fear in his eyes.

"Yes, a witness."

Draco had yet to turn around, or to open his eyes. His stomach clutched dangerously.

"Uh, then, err…I guess I'll stay." Blaise sat down.

Pansy grinned, a predator on the prowl. "I knew you would." she sat down next to Draco. "Drakie, look at me."

"No." Draco kept his eyes on his plate—though he doubted he'd ever get to finish it. As soon as he could, he was making a mad dash for the doors.

"Draco Herbert Malfoy, look up this instant."

Draco cringed at his full name and looked up.

Pansy nodded in approval. "Everyone!" she called out across the hall. "I have something I want you all to witness."

"Pansy." Blaise whispered. "Public murder, is uh, against the law."

"All murder is, stupid." Draco hissed.

All eyes were on their table. Draco fidgeted nervously. Blaise gave him a worried grin.

"I have all your attention?" Pansy could feel all eyes upon her. She smiled. "Drakie poo…"

Draco cringed.

Blaise held his breath, as did the whole hall.

"Draco and I…" Pansy paused again. "We're going to get married!"

Draco's head spun to the side in time to see Pansy flash a large glittering diamond to the whole school.

"My Merlin." Blaise whispered, pointing across the hall. Draco looked to where he pointed. Hermione had just entered—in time to hear everything.

* * *

Hermione wasn't about to let this foul day get the better of her. She strode toward the front of the Great hall shortly after lunch. The teacher's had left, as she had bid them, and the sadistic monsters from hell—namely Mr. McGale and Ms. Danna had been wise enough to remove themselves.

The student body was being very loud. The noise they created almost unbearable. She hadn't been in the best of moods, but this was ridiculous. "May I have everyone's attention, please?" The noise slipped down a notch and for that Hermione was grateful.

"You guys have heard that the Head boy and I have been given the task of preparing, arranging a rather…unorthodox fall ball." She'd have preferred to call the ball what it was, 'fucked up' was a lot closer to the truth than unorthodox. But…Hermione pulled out the list she'd been handed by Ms. Danna in the hallway after breakfast. At a moment in time when her head had still been a bit, well, shell-shocked.

The proposal, as it was already being called, wasn't, from what she remembered, a proposal at all. It was more of an announcement.

That, she thought, would be the talk of the century to be sure.

Shaking those thoughts away, she focused on the task at hand. She was more than positive that she'd hear more than she wanted to about this mornings incident later—in the common room, where she was sure the sullenly quiet Malfoy would break from his shell and rant and rave for hours.

She put the list away once more. Another time. She'd be seeing all of them again soon enough.

"So, this ball, as I said, is rather unorthodox. The head boy and I have decided to make it as entertaining as possible and as unforgettable as possible." Hermione paused. "This morning we all saw the sign stating that "phase two" has started. But let's face it. We're all a lot smarter than they think, so I hope none of you will worry about it too much." many of the students nodded. "So, with the help of several students, Malfoy and I were able to put together an event we think you'll all enjoy."

Some of the students groaned. If bookworm Granger approved of it, it couldn't be the kind of fun they were hoping for. But the students had misjudged the loathing the Head Girl felt towards the psychiatrists.

Putting a silencing charm on the hall, Hermione laid out the very well concocted, and to most, astounding plan.

Fred and George would be proud.

Draco didn't dare leave the protective common room he'd barricaded himself in since escaping breakfast. He paced back and forth nervously, half expected Pansy to barge through the door any moment. He tapped his foot nervously watching the un-moving portrait--ready to bolt if a certain female entered.

_She's following me  
She's out of her tree  
She's off of her rocker _

He shuddered inward. His entire body felt like a towel wrung of all water. He felt…he felt like his organs had been rearranged. He felt disgusted. It was enough to make him gag. And he had, he thought ruefully. Any other day he would have hated himself for the show of weakness, but Draco thought the current flow of events warranted his reaction. Now, he just had to hide for the rest of his fucking mortal life. Shuddering again, Draco replayed for the billionth time, what happened at breakfast.

He had woken, cold. Dressing warmly he had gone down to breakfast. Sitting alone at a table as far away, from the one Pansy had fed him at, as was humanly possible.

He'd left Hermione, asleep, on the couch. He smiled, replaying the events of the previous night. He'd been knocked off his feet. Wasn't that supposed to happen to the girl? No, that was swept off, not knocked off. Draco still couldn't believe how different Granger had looked.

"Use with extreme caution, understatement numero uno." He'd muttered. If the charm changed everyone in the school, as it had Hermione, he didn't think their would be a single person still 'single' by nights end, and a lot of disappointed hearts when they woke up the next morning.

Or not, he'd thought again. He'd spent a considerable amount of time examining Hermione while she was sleeping.

She was beautiful. He had concluded. Not in a supermodel type of way, or in the gorgeous type of way.

Her beauty was her own, not to be compared with another's.

Back to what happened at breakfast, it was thoughts of Hermione that had kept him from understanding anything Blaise said. Even when it truly mattered—such as when Blaise was trying to warn him of the approaching Pansy—he hadn't noticed until later that Millicent and two other Slytherin girls had accompanied Pansy. Most likely under orders to detain him had he tried to run.

With what Draco believed to be cruel and unusual precision, Pansy had glided to his side, and practically glued herself to him.

"Good morning, Drakie." Pansy had nuzzled his neck.

That was when Draco had first felt his gag reflex kick in.

Though he wasn't finished with his breakfast, Draco pushed his plate—along with his fork—as far way from him as possible.

Blaise was the one with manners; he was the first to speak. Draco only wanted to unhinge himself of the unwanted fixture.

He was blatantly lying now as he struggled to unhinge the unwanted and unneeded fixture.

Pansy purred. "Oh, Blaise, don't go. I need a witness." she slithered, if possible, closer to him.

Draco went dead still.

Blaise leaned forward, not wanting to miss a thing.

Pansy kissed Draco.

And it was the longest and worst kiss he'd ever had. Even now, thinking back, Draco had the sudden urge to wretch.

Pansy had drawn back, stood, taking a very gaudy pink diamond ring from her robes. That was when she made the announcement that he was marrying her. She'd dragged him to his feet, slipping the ring on her finger.

Draco recognized that ring. It was one of his mother's, one of the one's from the worst part of her jewelry collection. "What the hell?"

Drawing the attention of the room, with the help of her cronies, Pansy gripped Draco tightly.

"This morning, I proposed, to my love."

Draco blinked as many mouths in front of him fell open. "What?" he couldn't hear, what was it she had said?

"And he accepted!" Pansy squeaked, flashing the rock and flinging herself on an already unstable Draco. They toppled to the floor.

Being the first to recover his wits and senses, Draco had scrambled to his feet and made a mad dash for the hall.

"Drakkkkkkiieee!"

He'd barely made it into his room, the portrait slamming shut as the banshee from hell came barreling down the hall. He did get the satisfaction of hearing a nice, loud, thud. Assuming she had run head long into the portrait, Draco had grinned…before rushing to the bathroom, where he spent a very miserable hour over the toilet.

It was worse than a hangover.

Shivering, Draco wrapped another cover around himself as tightly as possible. He had no intention of ever…and he meant _ever_…leaving his room again. Draco didn't care if Hogwarts was burning to the ground. He—would—never—again—leave. Better to die in a fire than die in the arms of one Pansy Parkinson.

He heard the portrait swing open, his eyes focused on the door, his body tense. His whole body was preparing for the inevitable mad leap he'd make from the window if Pansy entered.

Hermione stuck her head in. "So you've just decided to hide out all day?"

"Are you crazy!" Draco shouted. "Close the door! Close the door!"

Hermione stepped inside the room. "Why?"

Draco rushed forward. "No, no no!" he cried. "Close the door Hermione!"

"Malfoy no one's out—" That was when she heard it.

"Drakkkkkiiiieee!"

"Oh my Merlin." Hermione smirked as she saw Draco pale. Closing the door just as she caught sight of Pansy.

"Are you crazy! What were you thinking leaving the door open! Are you trying to kill me?"

Malfoy was shaking so bad Hermione finally took pity on him. "Sorry. You cold?"

Draco shuddered. "I'll never be warm again. That…" he searched for an appropriate word. "Bitch froze hell over, I'll never be warm again."

Hermione's eyebrow rose.

"Yes, I'm from hell you god damn sadist. Happy?"

Cheerfully, Hermione bounced away. "I am now." She called merrily back at him.

Draco slumped back onto the sofa, his heart rate returning to its normal speed. He could faintly hear Pansy banging on the portrait.

"She's insane." He muttered.

"I do believe you're correct."

Draco jumped.

"Sorry." Hermione sat down next to Malfoy and handed him a piece of chocolate. "So…I didn't personally get to see all of what happened this morning, but I heard about it."

Draco shuddered. "It was horrible."

"I'm sure it was." Draco was still shivering. Hermione knew what she'd do if it were Harry…or Ginny, or Ron. But this was Draco Malfoy. She couldn't just go about hugging Draco Malfoy. But, she reasoned, he had just been proposed to by none other than Pansy Parkinson.

Anyone who survived that deserved a hug.

Draco felt Granger slip her arm around him—her body warming his. So this is what its like, he thought. This is why scarface comes crawling to her when he has a little nightmare. He had to give it to Potter…this would soothe any nightmare from his mind.

"I didn't poison the chocolate."

Draco jerked a bit. "Oh, yeah." He took a bite. Relaxing as it warmed him from head to toe.

"You want to talk about anything?"

"Uh…" Draco was about to suggest something that would probably make her slap him when there was a loud knocking.

"Don't let her in!" Draco screamed as Hermione got up to answer the door.

"Don't be so paranoid. You don't even know if it's her."

"No! Granger! Stop! Don't open the d—"

"Drakkkiieee poo, where are you!"

Hermione had opened Pandora's box.

Draco scrambled over the sofa…tripping over the blankets and covers that had been warming him, now only resulting in slowing him down.

"Drakkiee! Come here." Pansy scaled the coffee table and scrambled after Draco as he took off.

Hermione tried to intervene, but was knocked away as Draco headed for the nearest exit.

A window.

Draco didn't even pause to think of the consequences of jumping—the fact was, he wasn't thinking at all. Survival instincts drove him to desperate measure.

And out he went.

"And that is what you call love." Hermione said, shaking her head as she watched Pansy jump out right after him.

"Idiot."

"Idiots." She corrected, peering out the window.

Still shaking her head, Hermione made her way outside to see what she could do.

* * *

"Ms. Granger. Are you all right?" Madam Pomfrey hurried towards Hermione.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. But…" she waved two stretchers in behind her. "These two aren't doing so well."

Draco was in a full body bind. Hermione wasn't sorry about doing it, even as he continued to glare at her. She had her reasons. First off, she didn't know if anything was broken, and second he would not stay still.

"It's for your own good." She smiled at him and had the pleasure of watching his eyes panic. They swiveled around to look at the body occupying the other stretcher.

Pansy had also been put under a full body bind…but that was because Hermione just didn't like the girl and for all the trouble she had caused her.

Draco's eyes swiveled back to Hermione. She could see them begging her to do something. Hermione smiled and patted him on the head as if he were a dog.

"Ms. Granger, how did this happen?"

Madam Pomfrey was bustling about, preparing two beds for her injured students.

"Well…" Hermione looked at Draco. Pay back time, she thought. And told the truth.

"You see, Pansy here, proposed to Malfoy this morning." Draco closed his eyes. He did now want to hear this again. He silently cursed Granger. Without the use of his hands, he had no choice but to listen.

"Oh my." Madam Pomfrey was now unloading Pansy from the stretcher.

"Yes, I dare say that was pretty much everyone's reaction." Hermione helped Madam Pomfrey carry several potions back to the patients. "So, anyway. Malfoy was being chased by Pansy there, and he jumped out of the window to get away from her. Pansy…" Hermione shook her head, still astonished. She would follow Harry to the depths of hell and back, but…not jump out of a freaking window after some…some guy. It was completely absurd.

"Madam Pomfrey, I think you should run brain tests on Pansy here. I just don't' think its normal for someone to jump out a window…over a guy."

Madam Pomfrey nodded her head. "That's right, Ms. Granger, I'm glad to hear you're a lot smarter than Ms. Parkinson here. I shall run full diagnostics on them both." She released Malfoy from the body bind. "You may go, now, Ms. Granger."

Draco shot up from the bed. "NO! She can't go!"

"Mr. Malfoy! Lay down!"

Draco was struggling. "You can't go, Hermione, what if she wakes up!"

Hermione paused.

"Mr. Malfoy. If you don't stop struggling this instant Ms. Granger will leave!" Draco stilled. "Drink this." Madam Pomfrey handed him a potion, which he took.

"Don't go Granger." Growled Draco.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat down at his side. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Soon, his eyelids were fluttering, and before long, Draco was asleep.

Hermione glanced over at Pansy who was, thankfully, still asleep.

"Poor Draco." She said allowed.

Yeah, poor me, Draco thought, before finally letting himself go to sleep. Knowing she wouldn't leave him.

* * *

He woke with aches all over—every single joint, muscle, appendage, everything in his body screamed in pain.

Draco moaned.

"Well now, Ms. Granger, there's your answer."

Draco opened his eyes—but shut them again quickly. Even his eyeballs hurt.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are to return to your room. Ms. Granger here will help you."

Draco grimaced. "What about Pansy?" He whispered.

Hermione patted his shoulder. "She'll be here a little longer. We're giving you a head start."

Draco smiled at her gratefully. Hermione looped his arm around her neck.

"You might be a bit dizzy."

If he hadn't been before, he was now. Draco swayed slightly but Hermione kept him from falling on his face.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Harry and Ron sat in the library waiting. Sooner or later Hermione was bound to show up. Right? Instead, they were joined by Miriam and soon after, Charlotte.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Waiting." Harry stifled a yawn.  
"Been waiting." Ron groaned.

"I don't think she's coming here today."

"Who?" Miriam asked.

"Hermione." Harry answered.

"Oh."

"But, Harry, Hermione always come to the library."

"She won't be in here today. I can tell you that." Charlotte sat down across from the red head.

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Ron said aggravated.

"The proposal." Miriam glanced at Charlotte. "Right?"

"That's part of it, yes."

"What proposal?"

"Oh, Ron, you really are clueless."

"I am not." Ron shouted indignantly. "A little slow sometimes, but not clueless."

"Ron. You are clueless." Harry paused. "But at this moment so am I. What proposal."

"My god, you two don't know?"

"Know what?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

Charlotte grinned. "Pansy Parkinson proposed to Draco Malfoy."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding!"

"No. She's not."

"Why didn't I hear about this till now?"

Shrugging Charlotte eyed him. "Maybe because you're clueless, I don't know."

"So…how does this tie into Hermione not being here?"

Folding her hands, Charlotte leaned over the table, her eyes glowing. "Well, you see, that's the juicy part. It seems that Hermione let Pansy into the common room and Malfoy jumped out the window. As did Pansy."

"Sweet!" Ron whispered. "Did they die?"

"Ronald!"

"Sorry."

"No, they didn't die. I saw Hermione taking them both to the hospital wing."

"She was helping them? I'd have just left them there to die." Ron looked scandalized. "I don't think we've had all that much influence on her. Damn."

"Oh Ron! You wouldn't really want them to die, would you?"

Ron didn't answer.

"That's just below mean."

Ron didn't say anything.

"So, were they hurt?"

Charlotte looked shocked. "What kind of question is that? They jumped out a window! Of course they were hurt!"

"Sorry."

"Well, anyway. I just saw Hermione in the hall, taking Malfoy back up to their room. So he must not have been hurt too bad."

"Do you think we should go visit her?" Asked Miriam who'd been oddly quiet.

"Exactly my thoughts." Charlotte grinned. "Let's go."

The four stood and left the library.

"Do you think this is wise?" Harry asked. "Maybe we should wait. Hermione might not be in the best of moods. After all, she's got to baby-sit Malfoy."

"She'll be fine with it. It's Malfoy who might not enjoy our visit." Charlotte assured.

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Don't be stupid Ron, you know why."

"I do?"

Harry grimaced. His friend, ladies and gentleman, Mr. Dense. "Malfoy doesn't like us Ron, of course he'd be annoyed if we were taking over his common room."

"Oh."

"Which is all the more reason to do it!"

"You have a point there."

"I usually do."

Charlotte and Miriam shook their heads. "Boys." Miriam winked. Charlotte could only nod. "Clueless, the whole lot of them."

* * *

Hermione deposited her charge on the couch. "Feeling better?"

"Not really. Still sore."

"What did you think was going to happen? You were just going to jump out of a five story window and walk away all hunky dory?" Hermione fluffed one of the pillows and put it behind his head. "How did you ever become head boy?"

"It's called desperate measures, Hermione."

Hermione grimaced. It sounded foreign coming from his lips.

"If you say so." she pulled a blanket over him. "You're supposed to sleep."

"Will you stay?"

"I've got no where to go, Malfoy."

"Good."

Draco snuggled under the covers. The fire was going and it was warm and cozy. He felt instantly better.

"Do you ever wonder about how your life is going to turn out?"

Hermione grabbed _Enchanting Charms_ off the floor—where it had landed when Pansy overturned the coffee table. Sitting down in the armchair she sighed. "I think most people do. Why?"

"I've never actually pictured myself married to Pansy." Draco murmured.

Hermione reached out and patted his hand. "I'm sure you won't."

"How do you know?"

"Well, you never actually said yes, did you?"

"I'd never say yes."

"Then don't worry about it."

"But I am."

"Draco. Please. Just sleep."

Draco nodded and closed his eyes, feeling himself floating.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Draco's eyes shot open; he glanced quickly at Hermione who was standing. "Don't! It's her!"

Hermione shot him a look. "Go to sleep or I swear I'm going to hit you with this book." she hefted _Enchanting Charms_ up to show him the nice thick book that would be hitting him in the head.

"It's her!" Putting personal injury aside, Draco leapt up and grabber her arm. "I don't want to have to jump again! But I will."

"It couldn't possibly be Pansy, Draco, she's still in the hospital wing."

"How do you know! Maybe she escaped!"

Hermione's eyebrow rose.

"Okay, so she's not capable of that. Maybe she hit Madame Pomfrey over the head with…with…a tray or something and left."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let go. I have to get the door." She removed Draco's hand and went to the portrait.

Draco slumped to the floor. "Please!"

"It's not her! Draco. My god. I want you back on that couch now!"

Grumbling Draco went back to the couch. "Now stay there. I don't want you off that even if it is Pansy." she saw him pale. "Which it is not!"

Rubbing her eyes she opened the portrait. It definitely was not Pansy. Draco lay down with relief as scarhead and the faithful red head came in along with the cousins. Unconcerned. He closed his eyes and allowed himself much needed sleep.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Another edited chapter...whew!


	10. Redecorating Lessons 101

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**Chapter 10**

**Redecorating Lesson 101

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For Draco Malfoy, phase two of the evil psychiatrist was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. Had he thought the entire process was ridiculous to begin with, he now felt it was a ridiculous and creative form of torture. He had to give it to Mr. McGale and Ms. Danna, they knew how to get under a person's skin. They knew how to make each and every student in Hogwarts pause near a particularly high window and think 'wouldn't everything be so much better if I were dead?'

They came down hard on everyone—it didn't matter your age, your status, your house. They didn't discriminate in that way. No one was let off easy. Draco mused, even if you were the son or daughter of the Minister of Magic himself, you would not feel a reprieve.

Even though he knew that they were unbiased in their cruelty, Draco couldn't help but believe they were targeting him specifically…and Hermione, if he let himself be honest. But that could possibly be the fact that their being Head Boy and Girl meant they saw the two psychiatrists more than the rest of the student populace.

During those ill fated meetings—hours of wasted time—Draco couldn't help but think that their new plan was to make either himself or Hermione or the bonus of both of them, mentally insane.

He could see the gleam in their eyes—they were rooting for his demise. Most likely with the hope that the students would follow suit once they saw the two brightest students fall.

But Draco Malfoy wasn't going to allow them that pleasure. He brushed his hair carefully, watching it fall into place. No, they were about to be very disappointed. He was going to make sure of that.

Taking a last glance to reassure himself that his reflection was indeed perfect, Draco left the bathroom.

"Your turn." He grumbled to the dosing Gryffindor. Hermione jerked awake.

"Took you long enough," she said with a scowl. "You look the same as you went in. What the hell were you doing?"

"I have you know that I do not look the same." Draco said, offended. "I went in, merely beautiful. And…" He winked. "I came out gorgeous."

Hermione grimaced and patted his shoulder as she scooted past him. "You keep telling yourself that honey." she yawned and slammed the door shut. Finally! The bathroom was hers. Through her fogged brain she imagined a thought bubble forming above her head filled with a 'muahahahaha!'. She smiled riley. Early mornings were not the best time for her.

Draco waited somewhat impatiently for Hermione. They had a dawn appointment at the gallows. He sure didn't want to miss it.

"Hurry up!" He yelled half-heartedly.

He heard distinct mumblings come from the bathroom.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it." The door swung open and a very surly Hermione emerged.

"I said go by yourself if you're in such a hurry."

Draco yawned. "I wouldn't want to exclude you from all the fun I'd be having."

Hermione shifted her shirt, pulling it down, smoothing the wrinkles. "How considerate of you."

"I thought so." His smirk in place, "Shall we?" He held out his hand.

Hermione growled, glaring at his hand. "Let's go." she walked passed him stiffly.

"You're so pleasant at five a.m. Did anyone every tell you that before?"

Hermione didn't answer; she just waited for the almost bouncy Slytherin to catch up with her.

"Not talking are we?" Draco mused allowed as he exited the portrait. "Well, that's fine. I could talk to a wall, really I could. I can just talk and talk and talk and talk."

"Damn it Malfoy, shut up!" Hermione's hands covered her ears, trying hard to block out his not-so-unpleasant ramblings.

"Watch it Granger. If I want to ramble on and on and on and on…" He watched her grimace in satisfaction. "I'll do just that."

"Just grand." Hermione mumbled. "Conceited asshole."

"Why thank you, mudblood."

This was how their bickering went—Draco prided himself on actually holding what he considered, a conversation with her. Of course, it always ended with the customary insults to which he'd grown used to.

He didn't take offense—most of the time.

And Hermione didn't seem to take him as seriously when he called her mudblood. Of course, her reaction depended on how he said it. She seemed to be able to tell when he was joking and when…when he wasn't.

But then, Draco mused, Malfoy's don't joke. If his father could see him now…

They paused in front of the dark mahogany door.

"Ladies first." Hermione said, motioning to the knob.

"I think you've got us confused Granger."

Hermione shook her head. "I wasn't the one who spent an hour and a half in the bathroom."

"Close enough."

"How so?" Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Fifteen minutes is in no relation to an hour and a half Malfoy."

Draco reached out, his hand closed on the knob. "Fine. You win."

"Thank you."

"This time." Draco whispered as they both entered, the door closing with a click behind them—a small sound that was more a sealing of fate.

* * *

Miriam sat at her desk, her quill poised and Charlotte across from her.

"What do you think about this Malfoy?" Miriam peered at the other girl. Her hair was down for once.

Charlotte glanced up. "What do you mean?"

"That Malfoy, he's…" Miriam searched for the right word. "From the stories I've heard Ron tell. He's not exactly the guy next door, you know what I mean?"

Charlotte slid a foot beneath her, leaning forward on her elbows. "And?"

Miriam's eyes flashed annoyance. "Do you have to be so difficult?"

Charlotte shrugged, her eyes settling on the other girls.

"I think he has designs on Hermione."

"Observant aren't you."

Miriam's lips pressed together tightly. "I don't trust him."

"At least that I can agree on." Charlotte's fingers grazed the pendant.

"Your necklace." Miriam nodded to herself. "Hermione has one just like it."

Charlotte backed away, waving her hand, her eyes dark. "Family heirloom."

"Mhmm."

"Malfoy is just confused. Growing a brain hurts, you know. Disorientated is what he is. " Charlotte added as she turned away. "His breeding will catch up with him soon. I'm not worried."

Shaking her head Miriam watched the girl slip from the dark room. Her quill returned to the paper.

* * *

At the moment, all Draco could think about was how unfair they were being to him. He knew it was selfish, but he just didn't care.

First he'd been made to room with the know it all of know it alls, Granger. Second, he'd been fed like an infant by the biggest blight on humanity. Thirdly, he'd become, somehow, engaged to that blight. Fourth, he'd jumped from a window to rid himself of the afore mentioned blight.

And did it work? No!

He'd ended up in the hospital wing with that Madam Pomfrey who'd kicked him out soon enough. Being pampered was fine with him—but Hermione wasn't exactly one who pampered you—unless your name was Harry Potter.

Draco frowned. Had he been Potter he was sure he'd have been pampered like there was no tomorrow. Instead, Hermione had laughed at him, which he hated but endured in good humor. Or so he led her to believe. Draco was nobodies fool.

And he sure as hell wasn't anybody's fiancé.

And sure as hell not Pansy-pug faced-Parkinson's fiancé.

But it seemed some things were just out of poor little Drakie Poo's control.

"Mr. Malfoy." Ms. Danna greeted him with a stiff nod. "It's about time you showed up." She nodded to Hermione. "Ms. Granger and I have been waiting for over half an hour."

"Yeah, well, I was so excited to come here that I forgot where to go." Draco grumbled.

Hermione sniggered.

"Well, now that you're here. I want to start by asking you your plans for the ball this Friday. Ms. Granger?"

Hermione wasn't up for a fight. She was tired. It was early—the meetings having become earlier and earlier. She didn't understand. But she was here, or at the very least, her body was.

"As you know, I requested that we be given a trip to Hogsmead to allow the students to obtain costumes…" She stifled a yawn. "Mr. McGale denied the request and Malfoy and I looked for alternate ways to come up with a multitude of costumes."

"And," Ms. Danna prompted.

"We found a transfiguring charm that will work. All we need to do is have the students come to us. That is, I need to administer the charm, um, personally."

Ms. Danna nodded approvingly. "You overcame a very large obstacle, Ms. Granger."

Draco's eyes widened and Hermione sat very still. The psychiatrist had never so much as smiled at them. A compliment? They must be dreaming.

"Since I believe you have it under control Ms. Granger, I'll just leave the list of partners with you." she handed Hermione a list. "I'm sure you'll make sure everyone gets the information."

"Okay." Hermione clamped the sheets in her hand.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy." Ms. Danna looked up. "Since the unusual circumstances of your engagement, I found it appropriate for your fiancé to be here."

Draco's eyes widened in shock and his breath hitched. He glanced quickly over to Hermione who seemed to have paled slightly.

Near the back of the room, a door opened and Pansy was ushered into the room. Her dark hair was curled, her makeup heavy and her clothing…

Hermione looked to the floor.

Draco's eye twitched, his face contorted in terror. Jumping to his feet was a natural action—instinct.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy."

"Hey honey!" Pansy attached herself to the statue that was Draco.

Hermione chocked on her laughter.

Draco contemplated murder.

Hermione watched Draco's face, frozen in the expression of utmost horror. In her mind, she laughed, her sides aching with imaginary pain. _You don't need divine intervention for things you can never face._

_You don't need good intentions, in the end; it's all a waste. _Hermione grimaced as Pansy lowered Draco back down. He'd probably do about anything at the moment. His eyes were glazed over. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the floor. Such a pretty floor.

_We all need an endless vacation, from problems, from the world._

_We just need reconciliation, to repair what has gone wrong in our lives._

_I can't face the day. We don't want to try. I'll just waste away until I'm lost._

_Save me from this chaos, save me from myself._ The psychiatrist was dismissing her. Hermione stood, walking slowly to the door, when Draco looked up at her. His silver eyes pleading.

_Wait, don't say those things on your tongue. Wait, so many things you'll never say._

_I'll save my breath for the answers you want so much, _

_If only another day is wasted, another day wasted._ She grimaced as she lowered her head, giving him a small smile. He looked away, his eyes closed.

_Snapshots of your suffering, suffering from the little white lies._

_You don't need a crude benediction._

_You just need a new definition, when you're feeling alone in the night._

_You can't face the day and you don't want to try. I'm lost, I'm lost and wasting away._

_Save me from this chaos, save me from myself._

_So many things you'll never say._

_Until you break from me, break away._

_I'll save my answers, until then, until the day you're gone. Gone from here._

The door closed behind Hermione and Draco was left alone with two females. He'd rather befriend Potter and Weasley…in fact, he might just run out of here, bowl past Hermione and throw himself at their feet—if only they'd protect him.

But he didn't get up. He couldn't have moved had he tried. Pansy held him tight. Draco's eyes narrowed, frustration settling into his limbs at this impossible situation—and his thoughts began to grow very dark indeed. He was going to have to stop this nonsense. He was a Malfoy—he did not beg, and he did not barter friendship with the golden trio. And that, he decided, was final. 

That night, Draco wasn't only counting the ways to murder Pansy, he was now counting the ways to kill Hermione too—while hiding from the latter in a cold, dark space. Things had gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye. Draco seethed at the memories he'd never be able to get out of his brain. Maybe a concussion…a few years in a coma…blissful sedated sleep…he shook his head, his thoughts returning to murder.

The reason he was ticking off the increasingly dramatic ways to off Hermione was also the reason why he was hiding in a cold, dark space.

"Hermione?" Draco stuck his head out of his room to make sure it was her. "What are you doing?" he asked, coming out from the protective confines of his room. Assured now that the coast was clear.

Hermione fluffed the pillow she was holding and placed it strategically on the couch. Stepping back she observed, before nodding her head in approval and glancing to Malfoy.

"I'm having friends over." She stated as she walked to the fireplace and tossing into the fire scraps of parchment.

Turning around she scooped up a stack of rather disgusting magazines—obviously Draco's—and searched the room for a place to stash them.

"Those are mine." He said lazily, slumping into the couch she had plumped and fluffed to perfection. Hermione shot him an annoyed look.

"Well I sure wasn't reading them."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really? I was sure I saw you peeking through them—a"

Hermione rolled up one of the magazines and smacked him on top the head. "You are disgusting!" Letting the stack drop in his lap she sighed. "You deal with them."

Ignoring the magazines, Draco stretched his legs, leaning back and closing his eyes as he settled comfortably into the couch. "So what are you guys going to be doing?"

"None of you're business." Hermione growled throwing a bunch of his dirty socks into his bedroom. Guys were so helpless.

"Well," Draco drawled lazily. "I think it is my business. If you're going to be parading around in bras and panties I want to make sure I'm here to see it."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious."

"I'm totally serious."

Biting her lip, Hermione thought for a second. "Well then I guess you'll just have to go." She said decidedly.

That caught Draco's attention and started the quick beat of panic through his blood. "Go! Go where?"

Hermione had shrugged, taking advantage of the shocked Draco; she pulled him up and shoved him towards the portrait, which opened obligingly as she shoved him into the hall.

"But, but what about Pansy?"

Hermione grinned at him. Evilly.

"Deal with it Drakie Poo."

Before he could retort or try to get back in, the portrait closed in his face.

And that was how Draco Herbert Malfoy had come to be hiding in a dark, dingy corner—taking up residence among many cobwebs and dead spiders, live ones as well if he'd allow himself to dwell on the fact that a particularly nasty black one was eyeing his thumb thoughtfully.

"Oh no you don't." Draco whispered, scooting his hand out of reach of those piercing fangs. He almost thought he caught a glimpse of disappointment as the spider skittered away.

This was the reason that Hermione now held an honorary position on his newly created hit list.

He had to admit that he should have created one ages ago—it was a rather useful thing, a hit list. Took up time, imagination, and…Draco's thoughts paused as he listened intently at the sound of footsteps.

Why? Why had Hermione felt it necessary to kick him all the way out. She could have just requested he stay in his room. He wouldn't have complied…and that was exactly the reason why she'd kicked him completely out of his rooms.

She knew him too damn well.

He could hang with Blaise, Draco decided. But Blaise was in the Slytherin dormitories. And the Slytherin dormitories also housed a certain 'fiancé' who he was less than eager to meet with. Of course, it would be the perfect opportunity to commit murder. Draco's eyes gleamed as his visions came freshly back. He shook his head, too public.

"This is total crap!" Draco moaned, leaning his head against the cold, stone-wall. He was a Malfoy damn it. He was a Slytherin. Why the hell was he out here? He should have kicked her out! It shouldn't be this way.

But despite all that, he was the one in a dark dingy corner. Draco closed his eyes, how had he sunk so low? "I hate you," he muttered, to the world, to Hermione.

His eyes flew open when he was answered.

"A Malfoy in a corner." Charlotte smiled ruthlessly. "How fitting."

Draco smirked. "It's the new 'in' thing. Care to join me?"

Shaking her head thoughtfully, Charlotte smirked right back. "I'd hate to intrude. You look so…comfortable and cozy. It really is a fitting place for you."

Draco's eyes darkened and she laughed. "Now, now." she scolded. "You should know by now that I'm less than afraid of you, your smirks, or your dark temperament. I have my own collection of those."

"You really are odd." Draco mused from the floor.

"That I am." Charlotte said, walking away.

Draco scrambled from the corner as Charlotte turned to leave. "Wait! Where are you going?"

Charlotte turned and eyed the less than confident blond. His clothes were dusty and wrinkled from sitting. His hair mussed and ignored, due to the absence of a mirror she was sure. He really didn't look like the cocky bastard she'd seen during the summer. But he was, she was sure, underneath that ruffled appearance, the confident git still dwelled. She fixed him was a gaze of pity and watched his features harden into a scowl. "Hermione invited me up. And from the looks of it…she kicked your conceited ass out."

"Damn right she did." Draco stamped his foot in anger—running a hand through his hair. Disappointed at the tangles his fingers encountered in his naturally smooth hair. Granger was going to pay for this, he thought as he worked out the kinks. "You'll let me back in right?"

"Ha!" Charlotte turned, walking away. "Not a chance in hell, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a no." Like cousin like…cousin. Draco glared at Charlotte's back. That girl was just plain—different. Different in a different way from Hermione that is. Draco shook his head, too many damn 'differents's. Charlotte had told him to fuck himself before she'd even met him. Shaking his head, Draco pondered the two girls. They were both icy when they chose to be—and it seemed Charlotte had chosen all the time, while Hermione only used it to get her point across.

But what was with the Amulets of de Morana?

Slowly, ever so slowly, Draco's eyes widened. "Hell!" He cried, running his fingers through his hair, rubbing his neck. "How the hell did I miss that?"

Had he been keen on cartoons, a light bulb would have been positioned directly above his blond head.

A very evil light bulb, that is, for as the shock wore off, his thoughts began to twine into a rather sinister plan. A very, very, sinister plan. His lips widened in a grin—had Hermione been present she'd most likely have compared it to the grin of the Grinch as he decided to destroy Christmas.

* * *

"I'm here." Charlotte entered dramatically, as she'd been taught to do. The other girls were already there. She was, as she'd meant to be, fashionably late. Slowly she took in the other girls, spotting the sister of that idiot Ron, Ginny, she believed her name to be. Miriam, of course, and that Lavender Brown who annoyed her to no end. Scanning the rest of the room she saw a few others who she'd yet to learn names for.

Hermione looked up, her eyes dancing. "Everyone, Charlotte. Charlotte, everyone."

"Cool, so what's the torture of the moment?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just sit down and wait your turn. I'm practicing."

Ginny was standing in front of a mirror. Hermione consulted _Enchanting Charms_ once more before she read the incantation aloud; her wand pointed at Ginny whose eyes were screwed shut as she shifted nervously.

"Hurry up, Hermione, I want to see!"

Because she wasn't performing the charm on herself, the words changed to accommodate her.

_By the one in front of me_

_I see her from rags to riches_

_By the one in front of me, I see her as she sees herself_

_Beautiful_

_By the power of white elm wood and unicorn_

_Make our eyes see_

_What truly,_

_Is inside of her_

Ginny opened her eyes and shrieked. "Oh my Merlin!" She turned in a daze, eyes wide. "Oh my, Hermione, how?"

Hermione grinned, watching the various reactions of the other girls. Then suddenly, all chaos broke out.

"My turn!"

"No, me!"

"Hell no, I'm going next!"

Hermione shook her head and let them bicker. The ball was going to be interesting.

Ginny blushed as she admired herself in the mirror. "Oh Hermione…how did you find this? Think about it! We'd never have to buy dress robes again, mum could stop worrying about Ron's clothes…"

Hermione shook her head. "It's a rather complex charm. The book recommends not using it more than three times a year."

"Wow!" Ginny said, referring to the dress she was wearing. The charm not only took care of ones clothes, but ones hair and makeup—thank Merlin, Hermione was more than happy with it. Had it not done all that, she'd have had to take another long trip to the library.

Ginny raised a cautious hand to her fiery red hair. Her hair had been pulled back and secured by black clips—the banana curls bouncing slightly as she turned. At her ears were black teardrop earrings. The necklace that lay gently on her collarbone was a length of teardrop shaped stones that sparkled alluringly.

The dress itself was layers and layers of black and blond-gold lace. Ginny stuck her foot out and admired the old fashioned lace up boot.

"I love it." She whispered.

"Should we do the others before they kill each other?" Hermione asked.

Ginny grinned. "Of course."

Lavender was the first to get in front of the mirror—as she was the most ruthless. "Okay. Work your magic." She said, short of breath as she had jumped over the couch to beat the others.

Hermione laughed. "As you wish." Hermione consulted the book once more, making sure she didn't forget anything. "First off, imagine where you are beautiful."

Lavender's eyes met Hermione's through the mirror, glittering sardonically. "Oh please!" she said, tossing her hair. "I'm always beautiful."

The girls fell into a fit of giggles.

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders as she sat next to the stoic Miriam. They were certainly the most calm—not including Hermione—of everyone present.

"Hurry up and think!" screamed Ginny. "I want to see!"

When the charm was finally cast, Lavender had been transformed. Her long hair was stick straight. The gown she wore was slick and the brightest red Hermione had ever seen.

"Well." Lavender said as she assessed herself in the mirror. "There's always room for improvement."

Next up was Miriam. She eyed Hermione suspiciously. "Don't make me a hag." She warned as she stood in front of the mirror.

"I'll try." Hermione said sweetly, murmuring the incantation.

Poof!

Before them, where Miriam had stood a moment before was a hag.

"Oh my God!" Hermione almost had a heart attack. "Oh god! Miriam I am so sorry!" The girls behind her were beside themselves with laughter. Ginny was squeaking she was laughing so hard.

"It's not funny guys!" But that only made them laugh harder. "Miriam?"

Poof!

"Yeah?" Miriam grinned evilly. The girls were now bright red from laughter.

Hermione shook her head. "Don't you ever do that again."

Hermione slowly said the incantation again. This time, there was no poof.

When it was Charlotte's turn, Hermione couldn't keep the grin from her face.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you cousin?"

"More than you'll ever know." Hermione admitted truthfully. "You, in a dress. Priceless."

Charlotte dragged her close. "This doesn't leave the room."

"Oh I hope not." Miriam muttered from the sofa. Her baggy attire had become a rather renaissance-like gown. It billowed out around her making her look like a very large purple grape. Had she stood, Hermione was sure that the 'grape' effect would leave.

"Well at least I don't have to worry about being the worst looking in the room." Charlotte muttered to Hermione.

"I heard that." Miriam shouted.

When all the charms were cast, including Hermione, the girls began to get bored. Lavender and Ginny were in the midst of a 'Mine's better' face off. Hermione circled around. Miriam was busy observing her gown with interest in the mirror. And Charlotte…

Charlotte was lounging on the floor, flipping through _Enchanting Charms, _in her exotic silver-blue creation.

"Anything interesting?"

Charlotte nodded. "You know your red headed friend?"

"Of course."

"I'm thinking of turning him broccoli green."

"You can do that?" Hermione plopped down next to her cousin. "My Merlin. That's almost disturbing."

"You can say that again. Most of these charms are very much that. Maybe even…" She flipped the pages one by one, observing the ever increasingly strange charms. "Hmm. This is interesting. You can make any room completely pink."

Lavender's head perked up at the word pink. "What did you say?"

"You can turn any room entirely pink."

Getting hurriedly to her feet, Lavender rushed over. "Let me see!"

Charlotte obliged, handing the book over.

"Oh!" Lavender's eyes sparkled. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The girls thought for a second, until one by one, very evil grins crossed their faces.

"Oh yeah."

"Lets."

* * *

Malfoy was cold and tired and completely sick of walking in pointless circles in deserted hallways. He pulled out his wand. "Accio broom!" he muttered. A few minutes later, his faithful broomstick wound its way over to him. He opened one of the windows, feeling the cool night air brush his face. A pale blush crossing his cheeks as the blood rushed to warm his face. He inhaled the crisp chill around him as he hopped out into the open air. Had he really been so insane as to jump from a window? He really couldn't believe he'd done such a thing.

Women drove him to extreme measures.

Any other day he would have been happy to fly for hours, but Draco was ready to go to his room and sleep.

I don't remember leaving the lights on, he thought dully as he landed on the balcony. Tiredly he stepped in.

"What the hell!" he cried, startling two very overdressed girls. "What the fuck have you done to my room?"

One of the girls took a step forward. It was Hermione, his brain registered—Hermione in a midnight blue gown. He watched as her mouth opened, as her words floated in slow motion towards him. Could it get any worse? A moment later, Draco was sure it could, as Hermione's words echoed in his mind. "Redecorating, love."

* * *

A/N: Review!


	11. Kiss N Tell

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**Chapter 11**

**Kiss 'n Tell**

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**Since the day of Pansy's Proposal, the castle had been on pins and needles. There had been many side long glances made towards Malfoy, many friendly smiles toward Hermione, but towards Pansy—most people just tried to avoid her as much as possible. The reason for this was mainly because Pansy could only do one thing at a time and right now, her 'thing of the moment' was a constant tracking of one Draco Malfoy. 

Finally, finally, the long week ended and it was the day of the ball. While this was a rather cheerful thing to look forward to for most students—Head Girl Hermione Granger was currently having a nervous breakdown.

Combine that with lack of sleep and eating—you have a ready-made workaholic.

More so than she had ever been before. Her fellow students were very grateful.

"Next!" Draco cried. Harry walked up to him and Draco sneered at the disheveled boy. "Give it up Potter, you can never be good looking."

Harry rolled his eyes; jamming the number he'd been given into Malfoy's chest. "Shove off, Ferret."

Inside the room, Harry took in a very tired looking Hermione. "Hey, you okay?"

Hermione managed a sweet grin. "Do you know how many students there are?"

Harry nodded.

"Well." Hermione yawned. "You're only number." She looked at her clipboard. "Number 121."

"Ouch."

Shaking her head, Hermione maneuvered Harry to face a mirror. "You have no idea. Now, tell me." She referred to the clipboard again. "Your favorite color, favorite time era, and…" Hermione tried to suppress a large yawn. "Favorite character in a book."

Harry bit his lip. "Man, that means I have to think, doesn't it."

Hermione snorted. "That it does."

"Okay, well, um…"

"Spit it out, it will only be between you and me."

Harry grinned. "Well, I think my favorite color is green." He paused. "Err…the other questions…don't tell anyone, please."

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. "Cross my heart, hope to die. Now spill."

"I'm sure you saw Pirates of the Caribbean…"

Hermione grinned the first grin all day. "Oh my Merlin…don't tell me."

Harry shrugged, a large smile on his face. "I think that Captain Jack has got style."

Down on her knees with laughter, Hermione gulped air. "Whatever you say mate. Okay…so, favorite character?"

"Um…" Harry grinned sheepishly. "Zane Cobriana."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Harry, you're my lost half. I can't believe you read those, they're great, aren't they?"

"Yeah. I had to hide in a bookstore one time…I just sort of stumbled across them."

"Okay. Let me work my magic."

An incantation later, a very sexy man stood before her.

"My god." Harry whispered.

Hermione grinned. This was her favorite part. "No more time for you. Out." She shoved a dazed Harry out the back door.

"Malfoy!" she cried and could vaguely hear him yelling 'next'. This day would never end.

* * *

"So we're finally done?" Draco reclined on the sofa, happy to be sitting. He and Granger had risen before the sun and it was now an hour before the ball was to start. He'd called 'next' until his voice was horse, he'd missed breakfast and lunch, he had given every student the name of their partner for the dance, and initiated the spell to make sure that they went with said person. 

He was exhausted.

Pissed.

Planning.

Exhausted.

"Almost." Hermione said through her billionth yawn. She'd been shocked awake when Pansy had come through as number 230…and walked away in an outfit that would make Madonna blush.

But that had been a long time ago, seeing as the last number Hermione had taken was 957. She was worn out.

"What the hell do we still have to do?" Draco closed his eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't have to do anything.

"Our own costumes, plus, we have to be the first down there, make sure everything is…you know. Ready."

Draco rolled off the sofa. "Yep. Make me beautiful."

"Not a chance."

"Now that's just mean."

Hermione shrugged. "What's it matter? You're going with Pansy."

Draco smirked. "Not anymore I'm not."

"WHAT?"

"Well, you see, someone gave the Ms. Danna the impression that I really love Pansy and that I was just acting up so that we would get to go to the dance together. So, being Ms. Danna, she couldn't have that and seeing how much you and I hate each other…" Draco trailed off.

"That's manipulative."

"Uh huh."

"Low."

"Uh huh."

"Mean."

"Your point being?"

"Oh just forget it." Hermione turned around. "You planned this, didn't you?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about Granger."

"You're evil."

"So I've been told."

Hermione growled. What was his problem? "I wish you'd broken your neck when you jumped."

Taking the moment to move close—an opening he'd been waiting for. "So below you, Granger. Wishing that on someone."

Hermione was determined not to back away. If he wanted a fight, she'd at least present a target. "Someone?" She smirked. "You'd have to be someone before I would care. And you, Malfoy…" Hermione tossed her hair. "Are nobody."

"Then why are you shaking?"

"I am not." Hermione protested as Malfoy ran a finger up her arm. She shivered. "You're evil."

"Well, that's not stating the obvious." He settled his hand on the back of her neck, underneath her hair. Taking a step closer he wrapped his other arm around her waist.

Hermione bit her lip. "What do you want?"

Draco paused. He wanted a lot of things, but at the moment he wanted just one thing. Something he'd been wanting since the day Hermione had challenged him.

Hermione shivered as Malfoy pushed into the small of her back, making her move closer.

"This." He said, lowering his lips to hers.

* * *

Harry nodded nervously at Miriam. "So, uh, you ready to go down?" 

"I look like a bloated grape."

Harry grinned. "A very cute bloated grape."

Miriam rolled her eyes. "You don't look so bad yourself Potter."

"You guys ready?" Ron entered, a very disgruntled Charlotte behind him. Whereas Miriam looked like a purple people eater, Charlotte's costume was old styled, moth eaten, and ragged.

"I'll never be ready." Miriam sulked.

Ron patted her on the shoulder. "It could have been worse."

Miriam sighed. "Yeah, I could have come out looking like you."

"Ouch."

"Not apologizing."

"Didn't expect you to."

Harry coughed loudly. "Lets just get this over with. Hermione is stuck with Malfoy. Nothing can be worse than that."

"Agreed." Ron shook his head. "Poor Hermione." He pulled Miriam to her feet. "Let's go!"

"Yippee." Charlotte muttered under her breath. Red haired freak was not her type of guy.

* * *

"Malfoy would you hurry up!" 

Draco shrugged on his overcoat. "Calm down and relax."

Hermione paced beside the door. "I can't relax, can't be calm, and I can't be around _you._" She shot scathingly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Admit it, you liked it."

"Never."

Shaking his head, Draco took her head. "Never say never…" he taunted.

"Shut up."

"My pleasure." Draco opened the door and pulled her out.

"Wait." Hermione paused as the portrait closed behind them. "Don't tell anyone."

Draco smirked. "I can't make any promises."

"Draco."

Score. Draco thought with triumph. "Okay, I won't tell, if…"

Hermione tapped her foot nervously. "If what?"

"Kiss me."

"What?"

Draco held her hand tighter, lacing his fingers with hers. "If you don't want me to tell, you've got to kiss me."

_I know there's something in the wake of your smile._ Hermione's breath caught and she was not so sure she liked the feeling that started at the back of her throat, trailed to her stomach before settling into her knees._  
I get a notion from the look in your eyes, _Why did Malfoy have to have such gorgeous eyes?_  
You've built a love but that love falls apart. _Why? Why? Why? Hermione took a deep breath. Was it really worth it? He was going to tell someone eventually…_  
Your little piece of heaven turns too dark.  
Listen to your heart  
when he's calling for you. _After all, he was a Malfoy._  
Listen to your heart  
there's nothing else you can do. _But she liked the way it felt, his warm body so close to hers. She wouldn't deny to herself—to the world yes—but to herself…she loved his kisses._  
I don't know where you're going  
and I don't know why,  
but listen to your heart _Why did everything have to be so complicated? Hermione watched him he was waiting. He wasn't going to make this easy on her. Did he want her to kiss him as much as she wanted him to kiss her?_  
Before you tell him goodbye.  
Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile.  
The precious moments are all lost in the tide,  
they're swept away and nothing is what is seems,  
the feeling of belonging to your dreams. _Slowly, every so slowly, she lifted herself up, unlacing their fingers so that she could place them on his shoulders. She would need them there. For either she'd faint of humiliation, or shame, or just at her own daring, Hermione didn't know, but he felt steady. So strong, so steady. He'd be able to hold her if she fell._  
And there are voices  
that want to be heard. _Slowly closing her eyes…_  
So much to mention  
but you can't find the words. _She brushed her lips across his_  
The scent of magic,  
the beauty that's been  
when love was wilder than the wind. _And waited for the world to fall.

* * *


	12. Dance Till You Die

* * *

**Evaluate This!**

**Chapter 12**

**Dance till You Die**

* * *

Hermione had once been a fan of "Hocus Pocus" as a child, and occasionally watched it during the summer holidays. Now as she entered the Great Hall that had been decorated as she'd dictated, she felt a great sense of accomplishment.

Even if the guy at her side was not the _perfect_ Prince she had wished for in her dreams…a close second, but Draco Malfoy would never be the perfect man. Hermione was sure of that. He could charm, yes. He could enthrall, yes. He could make women and girls and old, old grandmothers drool, yes. But that didn't make him perfect—not at all.

For one, he was too pushy…way too touchy feely…and way too intoxicating.

"This is amazing." Draco whispered to Hermione as the band began to play.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. Took some work…but…" she observed the lightly lit hall, sweeping cascade of crushed velvets in dark and haunting hues, the ghostly laces that hung about the moth eaten Victorian furniture. She had been going for the abandoned castle look. For reasons beyond her, such places had a very poetic, very sad, and extremely romantic feel to them. "Totally worth it."

It was just as she wanted. Soon it would be filled with colors and costumes—filled with dreams. Nodding to Flitwick, the last of the charms were placed, the food appeared, goblets were filled and the music played louder.

"Ready?"

Draco shrugged. "This should be interesting." Strolling to the main doors, Hermione behind him, they nodded to each other, and pulled them open.

* * *

Draco led Hermione away from the main thrall soon after the flow of people ebbed down to a trickle. He didn't want to let go of her hand. She looked so perfect tonight. And…Draco smirked with accomplishment…he'd gotten her to kiss him.

"What is this music?"

Hermione grinned. "Just a song off a soundtrack that I like."

_I put a spell on you  
and now you're mine.  
You can't stop the things I do.  
I ain't lyin'._

"Soundtrack?" He cocked his head to the side, a curious expression crossing his face.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it's off a movie."

"Movie?" He tugged on a curl, wrapping her hair around his finger.

"Oh, damn it Malfoy, it's a muggle thing. I wouldn't expect you to understand!" Hermione quickly took in the people in front of her. "Lavender! How nice to see you."_  
It's been 300 years  
right down to the day,  
now the witch is back  
and there's hell to pay.  
I put a spell on you  
and now you're mine!  
Hello, Salem! My name's Winifred, what's yours?  
I put a spell on you  
and now you're gone. My whammy fell on you  
and it was strong. _

She rushed over. "And Neville! How darling. How's it going?"

They were two different beings, Hermione decided. Neville was wearing a nice suit of armor, complete with shield. While, Lavender looked like a red-carpet wannabe. Her dress was beige, almost skin colored, and clung to her body in a very…revealing way. And the heals! Hermione did not envy Lavender's feet and what they would be feeling tomorrow morning.

Draco shook his head as he watched Hermione talk rapidly to her fellow Gryffindors. She couldn't get away so easy. She'd been acting off ever since she'd kissed him.

Slowly he made his way over to them, sliding his arm around Hermione's waist and said in his best Snape impression. "Longbottom."

Clink.

Neville shook from head to toe, paled several degrees, and whimpered, his suite of armor making clinking sounds.

Hermione glared.

"That wasn't funny." She said angrily as she pulled Malfoy away. "What is your problem? What did Neville ever do to you?"

"Don't go running off."_  
Your wretched little lives  
have all been cursed,  
'cause of all the witches working_  
_I'm the worst!  
I put a spell on you  
and now you're mine!  
Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!  
If you don't believe,  
you'd better get superstitious.  
Ask my sisters!_

Hermione would have slapped him. To think he was ordering _her_ around. Like he owned her. But her initial instinct to cause damage to his complexion died as Ms. Danna and her crony approached.

"Ms. Granger, please don't leave Mr. Malfoy's side again. You must be a role model for the other students."

Hermione gritted her teeth.

Draco sneered. 'Told ya so', he mouthed at Hermione.

_"Ooh, she's vicious!"  
I put a spell on you...  
Sisters!  
Ah say ento pi alpha mabi upendi  
In comma coriyama  
_Mr. McGale swayed slightly. Hermione stepped forward. "Have you been drinking?"

He began giggling like a little girl…this verified Hermione's assumption.

"So much for being a role model." She muttered as Ms. Danna escorted her counterpart away. She was about to go check out the drinks—possibly those sneaky psychiatrists had slipped something in there—when Malfoy grabbed her arm.

"Uh, uh, uh. You heard what they said. You're not to leave my side."

"Shove off, Malfoy." Hermione made a pathetic attempt to drag him along behind her—failing miserably.

"Where are you going?"

Hermione stopped pulling. "Looks like nowhere." She replied scathingly.

Very true, Draco thought as he wrapped his arm threw hers. "Where would you like to go?"

Hermione felt as if she were back in kindergarten. "I would like to go check out the punch. I think somebody's spiked it."

"Lets go, then."

"Asshole."

"Mudblood."

Hermione shut up as Malfoy maneuvered her through the crowd. She'd kill him later.

* * *

"You want something to drink?" Ron sat nervously across from Charlotte. She was tapping her fingers against the rhythm of the music—setting Ron on edge. "Err, that is…if you're thirsty." He stuttered. Charlotte sneered. "Or not. Uh, I guess I'll shut up."

Smiling, Charlotte stopped the rather annoying tapping. "Sure, I'd love a drink."

Ron jumped. "Oh—oh, okay."

"Without the talking."

Ron nodded fast and furiously walked away.

"You are so horrible to my little cousin." Miriam yawned.

"Yeah, well, someone has to keep his heart beating."

"Uh huh—oh my god!" Miriam's face froze in gross amazement.

"What?" Charlotte turned…and deeply regretted doing so. Pansy Parkinson was approaching, poor boy in tow. She was dressed from head to toe in leather…well head to toe was not the most appropriate way to describe it. The outfit would be done more justice by saying it covered her here and there and hardly anywhere.

"Have you seen my fiancé?" Pansy swayed to a stop, flashing the hideous ring on her finger. "I thought I'd surprise him."

"Oh he'd be surprised." Charlotte shook her head.

"He's with Hermione." Miriam pointed. Not wanting to miss what was bound to be the most exciting and entertaining thing to happen all night, she turned her attention to that direction keeping one eye on Pansy.

"Oh! My poor Drakie!" Pansy sped off in the general direction of Draco, Hermione and…the punch bowl—dragging the guy with her along, as if he were no more than an accessory…a dog…a purse—take your pick. It was cruel and inhumane and oh so Pansy.

But she was ready to upgrade.

To a huge Mansion—lots of money—and the perfect accessory…

Draco Malfoy.

I put a spell on you  
'cause you're mine  
You better stop the things you do  
I ain't lyin'  
I put a spell on you  
Because you're mine  
You're mine  
And I don't care  
If you don't want me  
I'm yours right now  
You hear me  
I put a spell on you  
Because you're mine

* * *

And I don't care if you don't want me, I'm yours right now…I put a spell on you—because you're mine. Draco smiled and handed Hermione the goblet.

"It's not spiked." With alcohol, Draco added in his mind. He held up his composure…no hint that though it wasn't spiked with alcohol—there may have been one or two other things he'd slipped in there. To loosen up the party, of course.

"Whatever. What did you put in it?" Hermione looked at the bottom of the dark glass. "I'm not stupid Malfoy. You put something in it."

Draco managed his best 'I am an angel smile.' "I'm insulted Granger." He pulled the glass away from her and drank the contents. "You really don't have faith in people."

Hermione eyed him. He didn't drop dead, didn't start doing the cancan or anything embarrassing. She weighed her options. The spell to keep them together—with in five feet of each other—would wear off by about midnight…give or take.

"Okay, sorry…Malfoy."

"Make that Draco and I might consider accepting it."

"Draco!"

"Hey, I didn't tell you to scream it yet. Later though I'll—"

Hermione opened her mouth again, but it was too late. Pansy launched herself with a force never before seen by man—mostly because the target, a man, was usually crushed, killed or in other terms annihilated on impact.

Poor Draco.

* * *

"Ouch. You stepped on my toe."

"Sorry." Harry looked down at his feet.

"It's okay." Harry grinned. "Just…" Miriam pulled his head up. "Don't do it again."

"Okay."

They continued their odd little two-step, Harry trying his best to not look at the stunning creature in front of him. She'd proclaimed herself a purple people eater…but Harry wouldn't have minded one bit if a purple people eater came after him—if indeed they looked just like Miriam did.

Her hair was caught up in a messy, sloppy, wind beaten bun, and her face had the same wind whipped blush. He was finding it harder to breath as he tried to not look down as requested, but to not look up—for that was the reason breathing was becoming a chore. Why oh why? Harry moaned…

"You look like you're about to pass out." Miriam giggled slightly, feeling Harry's forehead. "Is it too warm in here for you? Would you like to sit down?"

Harry tried to form words…anything…but in the end, he could only manage a nod. Miriam took his hand, and led him from the dance floor.

"Maybe you just need a bit of air?" She said as set him onto a bench in the gardens.

"Thanks."

"Oh, it's no problem. I actually wanted to get out of there. Every once in a while, I just need a break from people. You know, so that I don't just go on some sort of killing rampage."

Harry scooted away from her comically.

"I was just joking Harry!" Miriam said as she smacked him, sitting down on the spot he'd cleared.

Harry laughed. "Well, I do know what you mean. I think…"

"Yeah." Miriam was looking up at the sky, so Harry leaned his head back.

"The stars are rather bright tonight."

"Yes. They are. It's amazing isn't it?"

"Stars?"

"Just the way we are this itty bitty planet floating in such a large space."

Harry nodded.

"Do you think about there being other people out there?"

"People?"

"Well of course." Miriam laughed. "Don't you know of the parallel universe theorem?"

Oh boy, Harry thought. She was a science-fiction geek. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Ron handed Charlotte her drink and watched her sip it dutifully. He sat down, and tried to find a gleam in his shoes. There wasn't one, he concluded a few seconds later—but…was this bravery he was feeling?

"You want to dance?"

"Huh?"

Ron's ears turned red. Maybe it hadn't been bravery, just a new form of stupidity. "D—da—daance? With me?"

There was a reason she shouldn't, Charlotte thought long and hard what it was—a whole three seconds. She threw up her hands. "Why not. Come on."

Shaking, Ron stood, took her outstretched hand and let her lead him to the spot she wanted.

Charlotte took a moment to look over Ron. He really wasn't that bad, she really didn't understand why she gave him such a hard time.

His red hair was almost a dark cherry under the dim lights, his outfit befit of a lord. It was amazing, she noticed, how sometimes, the couple's outfits matched…

And other times…she glanced at Lavender and that poor Neville lad, the outfits clashed horridly.

Ron's outfit was one of the ones that matched. His dark navy complimented the silver blue of her own gown. She felt like a roman—the dress was different from the first time the spell had been done, as Hermione had told her it would be. But…the silver-blue color had stayed. It was definitely not something she would have chosen under normal circumstances. For starters, it was a dress; secondly, it had a rather deep v-neck. And that was where she felt like a roman. It really was quite toga-like, but regal all the same.

Like she would have accepted anything less.

* * *

…Much later…

* * *

"Come on!"

"No." Hermione shook her head.

"Yes."

"No."

"Hermione." Draco whined.

"That is not becoming, Malfoy. And no means no."

"Not in my world."

I love you  
I love you anyhow  
And I don't care  
If you don't want me  
I'm yours right now  
You hear me  
I put a spell on you  
Because you're mine

* * *

A/N: Yet another chapter. Please REVIEW...


	13. Never

**

* * *

**

Evaluate This!

**Chapter 13**

**Never

* * *

**

Midnight came and midnight went. The spell that kept Draco and Hermione within five feet of each other had not worn off.

Hermione fumed.

Draco managed to keep all emotion off his face…but inside, he was gloating. For him, the night had gone mostly well. Except for the embarrassment of the self-proclaimed fiancé…that had been a bit, if not traumatic then... well, it was traumatic.

* * *

"Okay, sorry…Malfoy."

"Make that Draco and I might consider accepting it."

"Draco!"

"Hey, I didn't tell you to scream it yet. Later though I'll—"

Draco watched as a very funny look crossed Hermione's face. A look caught between amusement and fright.

"What?" He turned too late. Pansy was on him before he could even register a thought.

"Oh sweetie, let's dance." Pansy purred.

"Uh, Malfoy?" Hermione couldn't tell…was he alive, knocked unconscious, stunned, or dead?

She heard him grumble something that sounded remotely like 'Pansy get the hell off me'. But she wasn't sure.

"Pansy, um, I don't think he can breathe." Hermione edged toward the two.

"What do you mean, Mudblood? Are you saying that I'm fat?"

Hermione squinted her eyes, turned, and held her hand up. "No, Pansy, but, I'm seeing more than I ever wanted to, and so is the rest of the school."

Thinking fast wasn't one of Pansy's... talents. Her eyes grew tiny as she pondered, her lips pursed…it took her a long, long time before Hermione's words registered.

And all that time, Malfoy remained trapped. If he could have said anything, he would have agreed with Hermione, firstly that he couldn't breath and second that he was seeing a lot of skin that was just too close for comfort.

Hermione glanced around the room, not one of the students who witnessed the accident was in any hurry to help Malfoy. 'Figures,' Hermione thought.

She would have to save the pompous ass from the pug-faced blimp—but how? After all, Pansy wasn't small—not fat, but definitely larger than herself…and Hermione was, well, normal. The odds were definitely against her.

Her worrying was brought to an abrupt end as Ms. Danna returned.

"Ms. Granger?"

Hermione nodded as Ms. Danna looked from her to the almost hidden Malfoy.

"I'm assuming that that is Mr. Malfoy." Ms. Danna said to no one in particular. "Ms. Parkinson."

Pansy looked up.

"Would you please come with me?"

Pansy pouted. "But—I"

"NOW."

* * *

And that, Draco thought, was why he was alive and sitting here arguing with Granger—Ms. Danna had saved him from asphyxiation.

Unfortunately, he was now indebted to the psychiatrist, as she had made perfectly clear after the ball.

"And what did you put into the punch, huh? I know it was you. You have been planning and sneaking and just being an asshole this entire week. Why?"

Draco looked over to Hermione and shrugged his shoulders.

"Why not?"

Hermione stopped pacing. "I don't know." She sat down.

"Well, Granger, I'll tell you why I did." Draco stood and began to walk away.

"Where are you going? Malfoy, stop." Hermione stood, knowing that if he got too far away from her, her legs would automatically start to follow—no matter what she did to try and stop them.

"I'm going to my room, Granger. You know, that lovely pink covered room?"

"Well, I don't want to go to your room Malfoy—pink or no pink I'm not going."

"Well that's just too bad, isn't it?" Draco sneered and walked into his room, knowing she would follow—knowing she had to…for at least another two hours.

He was a genius—he'd admit it. And this was his crowning moment.

He grinned, glad she couldn't see it, because it was a particularly evil grin, he had to admit. He flopped onto his bed and waited for her to reluctantly come into his room.

He glanced around. Every single thing was one shade of pink or another—courtesies of Hermione and her friends.

This wouldn't have bothered him so bad, except that a weeks worth of searching had yet to reveal a charm that would reverse it.

"This is really not my color, Granger." Draco drawled as he lay on his bed, playing with a pillow that had, a few days ago, been a lovely shade of green. Now, it was a rather humiliating shade of pink.

Hermione, who was now standing at the edge of the five feet that was permitted to her, scowled. "Funny, the girls and I thought it fit you rather nicely."

Draco grinned. He he, she was in his room…he he… "Of course you would." He replied as he gloated on the inside. "You and your little friends must have been under the influence of _something_ to even dare to come into my rooms—and then to desecrate them like this…tell me Granger, was it drugs?"

He watched her face flush, and horror cross her eyes. "_We_ do not do drugs! _We_ leave that to the pathetic waste of society, Malfoy…a society that you take such pride in being one of."

"Nice Granger. Give that temper a work out."

Hermione ground her teeth. "Have I mentioned lately how nice your head will look on a platter?"

"So that you could keep it forever and ever?" Draco asked, his smirk in place. He never thought this would be so much fun. After all, Hermione had no choice but to stay and endure everything he threw at her. She couldn't just stalk off as she usually did.

She was glaring now, her face flushed. He had to admit he enjoyed watching her. Looking at her. Following her. Aggravating her. Tormenting her…Kissing her. Draco sighed at himself. How had this started?

Even he did not know…but if he could just get her to kiss him…one…more…time…

Hermione watched a dreamily sweep the smirk off the blonde's face. She really did not want to know what he was thinking. Instead, she set her mind to other things…

Punch!

"You did something didn't you?" Hermione stated, bringing Malfoy out of his daze, and began to pace.

Draco just sat back and watched. "And what exactly have I done this time, Granger?"

Hermione didn't stop pacing as she thought. "I want to know exactly what you did to the punch. Right now!"

"Why, Granger, would I do that?" Draco smirked. He reclined against the hot pink pillows on his bed and watched the increasingly annoyed Granger pace. He'd get to where he was going in his own sweet time…for now, it was amusing to just watch her.

Hermione was trapped and she knew it, the person who initiated the spell had power over the other. It was just simple fact and to her grievance she had not had the foresight when Malfoy had said he'd wanted to do it. Hermione shook her head…she had been so stupid.

"I don't know Malfoy, why you do anything at all. Why you even bother to breath, 'cause Merlin knows the whole school would throw a party the second you kicked the bucket. Seen any grims lately?" Hermione was on a roll and she was pissed. "If not I can sure present you with an opportunity to see one!"

"Calm down Granger."

"I will not calm down! I am tired, I am sick of this dress, and I am stuck with you! I do not want to calm down!"

"You could always remove it." Draco suggested, and had to stifle a laugh at Hermione's expression.

"I am not one of your whores Malfoy!"

Draco only smirked.

"I am not!" Hermione yelled.

"If you say so."

Hermione's chocolate eyes narrowed dangerously. "I will kill you one day. You just watch."

Draco nodded his head twice. "I'm just a shivering with fear, Granger. Truly. You strike the cold knife of death straight into my heart."

"What heart?" Hermione grumbled.

Draco smirked. "Come over here and I'll show you where it is."

Hermione sent him one scathing look before she exploded.

"Damn it Malfoy! Just end the stupid spell!"

Draco had had enough of her hysterics. "Not right now Granger. I like you like this." He sauntered towards her. "Now for what I was going to tell you." He grabbed her arm. "Please stop pacing."

Hermione wrenched her arm free. "So that's what you have to tell me? To stop pacing, I can't believe you actually got up to make such a stirring announcement. Oh my Merlin! Draco Malfoy wishes for me to stop pacing. Might I say, yes sir, I'll do just that. Now what Alternate Universe would that happen in? Eh?"

Draco shook his head. "This one."

Draco was now sitting happily in the quiet and calm of his room, Hermione at his side. He smiled. "Calm now?"

Sighing, Hermione did the only thing she could—she glared.

"Okay. So do you have anything to say other than that I am a manipulative asshole, a ferret, a pompous ass, or any of the other things you have called me?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can."

"Then why not go bug someone else, or better yet, your fiancé?"

Draco leaned back to think. "You know, Granger, I've been thinking about that whole fiancé thing. I don't know what I'm going to do about her. But the fact is that I'm here, with you."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "So?"

"I guess I should also mention I slipped something into the punch tonight before I answer your question."

"Tell me something I don't already know Malfoy."

"Well, you see, I didn't just slip anything into the punch."

Hermione sat up straight. "You have my full attention Malfoy."

"You see, Hermione…"

Hermione gritted her teeth, her blood racing. "Malfoy."

"I sort of, lets just say I... " Draco paused, he'd never seen Granger look so sick and mad all at once, it pleased him. "Added a weak love potion."

Swallowing was hard as Hermione's face contorted. "You—did—what!" she screamed.

Draco winced. "Jeez, what's the big deal, it wasn't anything permanent, just a little teeny, tiny…" Draco looked up to see if she was buying it. Deciding that she wasn't he added, "Miniscule, completely insignificant amount." He shrugged innocently. "A few drops. I swear that's all."

Hermione shook her head and blinked. "Do you know how much trouble we're going to be in if anyone finds out? Especially Dumbledore! You aren't allowed to mess with people's lives like that! It's…" Hermione paused for breath.

"Great. It's great." Draco stood, losing his temper. "It makes it easy for guys who actually deserve it, and given, those who don't, a freaking chance!"

"A chance at what? No one wants to be with someone they don't like!"

Draco took the few steps needed and shook her. "And how do they know they don't like them? Huh! How is anyone ever supposed to have a chance when that person already has an entire encyclopedia of faults written? Whether its true or not!"

"If you're talking about me, Malfoy and you're sudden interest in me, then you are wasting your breath. Hear me loud and clear." Hermione got right up into his face—something that she probably wouldn't have done, and most likely knew she shouldn't…but when one is mad… "I don't like you." Hermione annunciated each word slowly and clearly. "That's just the way it is."

Draco nodded. "Is that so?" He asked, his voice cold and his eyes fierce.

"Yes. It is."

"Then why are you holding me so tightly?"

Hermione grimaced, realizing she was doing just that. Not for the reasons he obviously had in his head. She hadn't even noticed, after all it was hard to get into someone's face, who was much taller than you. You needed a support beam, and Malfoy had fit the ticket.

"You know what, Granger." Draco ran his hand through her hair. "I don't care what you think about me. I don't care if you say you don't like me. I don't care if you aren't the prettiest girl in school. In fact, I don't care about much of anything other than that somewhere, sometime, somehow…I lost my mind, and—I" He brushed her hair from her face, tracing the line of her jaw, he sighed.

"You fell for me anyway."

Draco smiled. How could he not have?

"I'm sorry." Hermione backed away.

"For what?"

Hermione looked around the room. "For this." She motioned to the pink walls and curtains and carpeting and chairs and bed.

Grinning, Draco took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "Well, believe me, I can come up with some things you can do to fix that." He tugged her closer.

"Malfoy."

"Granger." He lowered his head, hoping to taste her soft lips…but unfortunately he met her cheek.

"Not happening." Hermione shook her head.

Draco groaned. "What now?"

"You drank the punch."

"Your point being?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't want to fall in love with you tonight."

"Tomorrow then?"

Hermione shook her head. "Never."

* * *

A/N: La la la laaaa...Review please...aaaal al al aL :N/A


	14. Never Say Never

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**Evaluate This!**

**Chapter 14**

**Never Say Never**

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Her dress was pearl-escent. It shone and shivered in the moonlight as she twisted nervously.

"Don't be nervous. You're beautiful."

Hermione looked up. Ginny grinned, her eyes glittering with mischief.

"Hey, you want to sneak a peak at what the guys are doing? That might help to calm your nerves."

Hermione shook her head enthusiastically "Oh yeah!" Her eyes widened and Hermione quickly shook her head no. "What's going on?" Ginny was different, but Hermione couldn't put her finger on it. She bit her lip.

Ginny's long red hair was twisted into elegant loops secured by a silver pin. Her dress was pale gold.

"What do you mean 'what's going on'? Hermione, are you feeling all right?" Ginny brushed her hand across Hermione's cheek.

"I'm in a dress."

Ginny laughed. "That you are. Who wouldn't be on such a day?" Her eyes squinted together. "Why don't you sit down? Wouldn't want you to faint now would we!"

Ginny sat Hermione down.

"Oh my Merlin!" Hermione cried and jumped.

"What is it? Hermione?" Ginny kneeled down beside her friend. "Are you okay?"

Trembling Hermione held out a shaky hand and pointed to her reflection in the mirror. "That isn't me."

Ginny shook her head. "Jeez, Hermione, of all the days to acquire a sense of humor you chose today." Ginny squinted at her. "You didn't drink did you? I told mum to hide everything."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no, Ginny, that's not me!" Ginny pattered Hermione on the shoulder.

"Such a joker. Maybe you do need a drink."

Hermione watched Ginny's retreating back. She glanced around, afraid to move. She was alone. Hermione leaned back in the chair.

"Wow. What great shoes." Hermione said aloud as she stared at her feet.

"I thought so too."

Hermione jumped, falling out of the chair. She looked up and was frozen by the shock.

"Did I see Ginny go out?" Draco looked around the room cautiously, nodding when he found the room free of other occupants. "Finally. If I heard another one of her rants about how I can't see the bride before the wedding, I'd curse myself. Literally."

"Malfoy!" Hermione gulped and closed her eyes. She opened them a little, but god damn it, he was still there. Looking at her very oddly, too.

"Are you okay?"

Composing herself Hermione stood. "Of course." She replied with the usual chill in her voice that she used when talking to Malfoy. "What is going on?"

"Well, Harry is already getting drunk. I know, I know—way too early. But his wife did leave him. You can't blame a guy after something like that."

"Harry's married?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling.

"Wow. Is that an attempt at humor Hermione? Let's leave it to the professionals, hon." Draco leaned back against the wall and yawned. "Who in the world would want to get married at midnight?" He smirked. "Oh, that's right. Us."

Gulping Hermione took a step back. "I am not getting married."

Draco shook his head. "I thought we'd decided that your stint as a comedian was over? But it's nice to see you try to lighten the situation."

He took her hand. Hermione would have pulled away, but he was slipping something onto her finger. "Just wanted to see how it would look. What do you think?"

Hermione looked down at her hand—and screamed. "Malfoy!"

Draco laughed. "Yeah. I know, I about died too. Fred and George made it. Jokers to the end those two." He removed the glittering pink ring, engraved with a very realistic and moving portrayal of Pansy Parkinson's face. Draco tossed the ring over his shoulder. He pulled another from his pocket and slid it on. "There."

Hermione glanced at the simple square-cut diamond on her finger before shaking her head. "Fred, George…"

"Yep, that's them."

"Weasley?" Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. "You hate them."

Draco shrugged. "Don't get technical here, Hermione. I'm supposed to be happy, and I am. Let's not have you ruin it with your attitude."

"But—I"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You really need to cut it out Hermione. I doubt the others will find it as funny as you seem to."

"I'm not joking Malfoy."

"Hey. I've got an idea." He grinned. "Why don't you tell me now, instead of later?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione would have said more, but she didn't get the chance.

Draco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. His lips were soft and warm as they trailed kisses down her neck. "I love you Hermione Granger."

_I know what you want  
I know what you need  
Better than you do  
I know why you came  
I promise you…_Draco's body pressed into hers tightly, Hermione was finding it hard to breath, but another part of her, was moving, running her hands through his hair.  
_I know where you go  
I know what you do  
Better than you do…_He was grinning, she could feel his smile as he bit down lightly on her earlobe, her knees going week. What was going on! But instead of pulling away, Hermione felt herself actually pull him towards the floor.  
_When nothing remains  
I come to you  
Sometimes she shines, and I know  
Beauty has her way  
With her hooks and her grace… _"Hermione…" His voice was so soft, his breath warm on her throat. Hermione moaned and tried to pull him on top of her. "Not now. After." He whispered into her ear, while trailing butterfly-light kisses down her neck, to her collarbone…  
_Beauty has her way  
Lights down, we drown, and I know  
Beauty has her way  
This plain day  
Beauty has her way  
The trembling lengths  
The conquering touch…_His hands were sliding across her bare back, his skin so soft and warm, she could almost swear that they left trails of fire behind. She took his face in her hands, running her thumb along his jaw, over his eyebrow, down his nose…and slowly dragging it over his bottom lip, listening to him moan and pull her closer. "Don't stop." He murmured, taking her hand in his, and continuing to kiss each finger lightly.  
_Everything to you  
And into your flame  
I'll follow you  
Where all wishes twist…_Hermione had never felt anything—anything like this before. And how did she know to do…just that? As she felt herself pull his face to hers, felt her lips meet his…how?  
_Everything to you  
In doorways and dreams  
I run to you  
Sometimes she shines, and I know  
Beauty has her way  
With her hooks in your face  
Beauty has her way  
Lights down, we drown, and I know  
Beauty has her way  
This plain day_

_I promise you..._ she pulled away to stare into his gray eyes. He was smiling at her, his hand cupping her face.

"I love you Draco Malfoy." He closed his eyes, resting his head in the crook of her neck, holding her close. She never wanted to leave…never wanted to…

"I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN YOUR ROOM!"

The two broke apart and Draco grinned sheepishly up at a very annoyed Weasley. "Sorry Ginny."

"Get out!"

Draco stood, brining Hermione up with him, he kissed her hand one last time and left.

Ginny glared at Hermione. "I told you that you two were not allowed to see each other!"

Hermione was about to say that she was confused, that she was not exactly completely understanding what was going on when her voice answered for her. "Ginny, you can't keep us apart…"

"I can if I stay here for the next half hour. I swear! I go to look after Harry for one moment and…"

"You talking about me?" Harry stumbled into the room. "Aw, don't you look nice Hermione?"

Hermione blushed. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

Harry tried to stand straight. "I'm taking you to your father, Hermione."

Ginny glanced at the clock. "Oh my! Come on, Hermione." She ushered both Hermione and Harry out of the room. "Go on Harry, take her." Ginny turned to Hermione and let out a girl-like squeal. "You are sooo lucky!" And then Harry took hold of her hand and led her away.

The scene was set. Perfect. Hermione Granger, with her father on her arm walked down a carpeting of clouds. The guests seated in intricately carved chairs. A fog rolled across the floor, swirling around ankles and creeping up the columns. At the end stood three men. Their backs were turned to her. But she knew them to be those of Malfoy, Harry, and Ron.

Her father handed her away, Malfoy taking her hand and the ceremony began.

Draco leaned closer and whispered. "Your father doesn't hate me, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You told him right?"

"Told him what?"

"That you're pregnant." Draco whispered.

"WHAT!"

* * *

Hermione rolled off the bed, her heart pounding. Holy fucking god! She ran a hand through her hair.

It had all been a dream. Or had it.

Draco smirked as Hermione walked groggily into the common room. "Sleep well?"

Hermione stared at his shoes. Not really sure she could look him in the face after…that. "Fine."

"Any dreams?"

Hermione looked up, her eyes livid. "What did you do?"

Draco laughed and jumped back, out of her reach. "Never say never!" Draco taunted. Hermione lunged at him. He caught her as she tripped and wrapped his arms around her. "Are you getting a feeling of déjà vu? 'Cause I sure as hell am."

"I hate you."

Draco smiled and kissed her. Her hand lay lightly on his neck, her fingers sliding through his hair. His hand slid up and down her back in a gentle caress before settling at the base of her neck. The closeness of his body sent shivers down her spine.

"Do I dare say that you're liking this?" Draco asked between the kisses he rained down on her neck.

"Don't tell anyone." She could almost feel the smirk form on his face. The guy really had a large ego. "How'd you do it?"

Draco continued to kiss her neck, stopping a hair's breath away from her lips. "Do what?"

"Make me dream that?"

Draco grinned and lowered his mouth. When he pulled away his eyes were laughing. "Secrets of the dark side." He paused, then "Did you like it?"

Hermione grimaced. "Don't you dare tell anyone."

"As you wish."

His lips descended down onto hers, and Hermione felt the unnerving butterflies in her stomach. The fingers on her neck were light and sent shivers through her body. Hermione tried to calm her breathing, to stop the involuntary shaking in her arms. Draco pulled her arms around him, drawing her closer.

Slowly, Draco pulled away and watched Hermione lick her bottom lip. When she finally looked up at him, he could see the stubbornness begin to settle in—and the defiance.

"Don't." He traced her chin. "Don't deny it."

Hermione grinned slowly. "Okay Drakie…"

"Oh Merlin." Draco stepped back and ran a hand through his hair.

"You and Pansy will make a lovely couple." Hermione turned and walked away.

"In what universe do you live in?"

"Well, you are engaged to her…and I think I heard talk of the wedding date the other day."

"You're joking!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Possibly."

"Now you're trying to get back at me for the dream. It won't work."

"So sure?"

Draco smirked. "You liked it, it doesn't matter. I'd consider it a job well done."

"Not a word," she repeated.

"Not a word," he agreed.

* * *

A/N: Hehe...please review...


	15. The Empire Strikes Back

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**

Evaluate This!

**Chapter 15**

**The Empire Strikes Back**

**Muhahahaha

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**

Hermione avoided Draco for the next week and a half—as well as anyone in her situation could, that is. After all, they sat together at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They lived together in a very small space—any space becomes considerably smaller when one is avoiding said person. And to top it off, the physiologists had struck once more.

And this time, they had a plan.

* * *

Ms. Danna observed the two _families_ that she had called before her. Her office was cold, lit only by a fire at the far end—an unusual fire, as it flicked tendrils of flame in the most peculiar shades of black obsidian.

She leaned back and observed her prey. Most of the students refused to meet her eye. Only one did. The one she would have to break.

"Ms. De'Lunic, do you have anything to say before I start?"

Miriam shook her head. Harry, who was sitting next to her shivered as the psychologist's eyes remained glued on Miriam, unblinking. He gulped, swallowed, shuffled. The annoying silence making him and the rest of his fellow students restless and jumpy.

Which was exactly what Ms. Danna wanted.

"I have a question for you…" Ms. Danna looked each student in the eye. "You all know why Mr. McGale and myself are here, at this school, do you not?"

They nodded.

Ms. Danna's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch, she leaned forward and fixed them each with a piercing look. "You do?"

Blaise shook his head, no, rapidly. Pansy followed suit. But Harry only stared at the floor. Counting the fibers in the rug.

"Mr. Potter." The voice was cold as glacial ice—the kind that damages nerves with the slightest touch.

Harry raised his eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you know why Mr. McGale and myself are here? For what purpose we were sent?"

Harry glared. "Yep."

"Do you care to inform your ignorant classmates of the reason you presume we are here?"

"Nope."

"I see." Ms. Danna uncapped an angel white quill, opened the bottle of "My Eyes Only Ink" dipped the quill daintily into the bottle. The tip hovered over the paper. "Are you sure Mr. Potter?"

Harry smirked. "Positive, Ms. Danna."

The students watched as several notes were jotted down. Pansy craned her neck to see what was written…and being the slow type, was very confused at what she saw.

On the paper, in stiff letters was written:

_Mister Quaky Duck on voyage to Griswold Horal Palace, Horticulture cream filling. Blueberry topping, oiled to a complete crisp. Ideals of inherent culture and tradition…_

A very confused Pansy shook her head. Turning to Blaise she whispered. "I don't get it, I thought she was writing something about Potter. But it's about Mr. Quaky Duck."

Blaise shook his head and rubbed his hand over his forehead. "Pansy. Face the damn wall."

"But Blaise, maybe Mr. Quaky Duck is Potter's real name!"

"That would be the day, wouldn't it Pansy?" Charlotte asked, speaking for the first time.

"Hey, Potter!" she called over to Harry. "Is your real name Quaky Duck?"

Harry's mouth dropped open in horror. "How did you know?"

Charlotte nodded to Pansy. "Miss Genius over here found you out. You might want to hide."

Harry nodded, rolling his eyes as he sat back.

"I knew it." Pansy whispered in triumph.

* * *

Hermione sat next to Draco as Mr. McGale handed them each a packet of paper.

"Each of you will be receiving these. Ms. Danna is also passing these out." He finished handing out the packets and neatly stacked the remainder before setting them on his desk.

He yawned. "Now, I want you all to take a moment to read the first paragraph, describing what will be going on."

Hermione took the moment presented as Mr. McGale looked away to scoot further away from Draco. Flipping open the cover she read the first page.

_Adamo Noctic; Matrimonium _

_History of the Adamo Noctis potion: Demens Mulier, which is Latin for insane woman, invented Adamo Noctis in the late 1500's. Demens was an unhappy and very radical witch for her age, she had had several bachelors but all had fallen to death before the nuptials could be completed. Kairo Boleina was her first suitor; he was gutted by his ex-girlfriend Katrina Vilmes (earliest Azkaban prisoner). Pathos De'Mure was the second; he was eaten by a Horned Dragon. After suffering the heartache and taking the criticism of the town in which she lived, Demens moved to the Dormant Mountains in Gal. There she became a recluse, only coming out to buy more ingredients—ingredients that were used to make the Adamo Noctic potion._

_Uses of the Adamo Noctis potion: The Adamo Noctis potion was constructed under tears of pain and lonely nights, emotions that make this potion very powerful and very dangerous. There have been many major catastrophes associated with Adamo Noctis, more commonly known as the Matrimonium potion—the marriage potion._

Hermione looked up and glanced at Draco, just in time to see a green sheen overcome his pale face. She couldn't help but grin.

"I assume you've finished reading?" Mr. McGale asked from his desk.

Hermione nodded. "Oh yes. But, I do not understand what this has to do with anything. Or why it is even relevant. Or what it has to do with anyone in this castle. Or…"

"That's quite enough Ms. Granger. And to answer your questions—the reason Ms. Danna and myself are here is rather simple. To observe the students under stress, to record, and to undermine all the qualities taught to you by your parents, your instructors, your peers, and most importantly yourself. In all, we are to strip the students of all barriers and observe the raw animal instincts that lie beneath."

"Well, that's putting it bluntly."

"Who cares about that, it's sadistic!" Draco moaned. "They're going to make me marry Pansy!"

"Oh quit your whining." Hermione flipped the packet to the next page.

Draco sat up straight and glared. "I'd like to see you marry that thing!"

Hermione didn't answer and Draco went back to sulking. Mr. McGale smiled from behind his own packet.

A few minutes later, the psychiatrist laid the packet back down. "Any questions?"

Hermione scanned the paper again before looking up. "Yeah. If you're going to do this, is it really going to be all that more effective to have you and Ms. Danna pick our "partners" than say, Dumbledore?"

Mr. McGale scratched his chin. "Well, that is a very good question Ms. Granger. I'll have to get back to you on that one. Well, if that's all, you two may leave. As Head Boy and Girl, I expect you to be the role models for the school."

Hermione shook her head in disgust, stood and marched out the door. Draco exited right behind her.

"What's the rush?"

"Well, I thought I'd go get some of that everlasting film and buy a camera so that I can photograph your wedding."

"That's just cold."

"Well I'm not feeling so warm and fuzzy at the moment." Draco mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing."

The two walked to their common room in silence.

* * *

Harry, Miriam, Charlotte, Pansy, and Blaise left Ms. Danna's office in a daze.

"I can't believe this." Blaise said.

"Well, believe it." Charlotte grumbled.

Pansy was the only one whose daze was one of complete and utter happiness. She skipped down the corridor ahead of them all, humming 'here comes the bride'.

"That's just sick." Harry grumbled.

"This whole thing is sick and the fact that she's humming is just downright disgusting."

Miriam clenched her fists. "I don't believe what Ms. Danna said. How can experiencing marriage to someone you didn't chose constitute a positive experience? Sounds more like hell to me."

"I believe that's what she's aiming for." Charlotte mused as she twisted her hair into a bun. "Understand this, everything we're going through is for their own sick amusement. Nothing else."

"Whose sick amusement?" The group turned to see Ron, leaning against the wall.

"Have you had your evaluation yet with your psychologist yet?"

Ron shook his head. "I was supposed to, with Mr. McGale and Hermione. But I was in the hospital wing, so I guess I got excused or whatever. So what's going on?"

Harry sighed. "We're getting married."

Ron stood there, lost for a second, a worried look on his face.

Harry shook his head. "Not you and me Ron. The psychologists are all going to pair us off and give us a taste of the _married_ life. Personally, I think they just have a sick sense of humor."

"A really, really, really sick sense of humor." Miriam growled. "Demented even, after all, who gets to pick who we marry? One guess. Them! Sadistic bastards."

"Oh." Ron said, relieved. "For a second there mate, I thought I had to marry you."

"Well, I'm sorry you were confused there, Ron my boy." Charlotte rolled her eyes, her voice seeping with deadly sweet sarcasm. "But we really have to be going." She pushed by him, snagging Harry and Miriam by the arms as she went.

"Bye." Harry waved to Ron as he was pulled away.

When Charlotte was sure they were safely away from the somewhat dumb Ron, she stopped, releasing her captives.

"So…" Harry glanced around. "Did you want to talk about something?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Always stating the obvious, aren't we Potter?"

Harry shrugged, "Awkward silence, didn't like, explanation provided, moving on." Harry grinned. "That is, if you're done berating me yet."

Charlotte grimaced. "You think you're so funny, don't you." She paused. "But yes, I'm done with you. But not with them."

Miriam yawned. "Them?"

"This whole marriage thing." Charlotte withdrew the packet she'd been given. "Isn't there some law against this, this has got to be illegal. Most of the castle is underage for Merlin's sake!"

Thoughtfully, Harry flipped through his own packet. "I'm not sure."

Miriam sighed. "Give that to me." Snagging Harry's packet Miriam turned a few pages.

"This is all technical jargon crap."

"That none of us speak." Harry stated. "Well, all but one that is."

Charlotte smiled. "You're a genius!"

"'Bout time you noticed."

Snagging the two again, they took off towards the Heads dormitories.

* * *

"Malfoy," Hermione managed through gritted teeth. "Just shut up, I'm tired of hearing it!"

"Shut up? You are telling me to shut up? How can you!"

Hermione pulled the pillow away from her face. "You want to know how I can tell you to freaking shut up? It is because you've been screaming about this for the last hour and a half and my ears, Malfoy, are about to fall off."

"Well good!" Draco screamed. "It would be an improvement." Draco knew that that was not the smartest thing he'd ever said and it really hit home when the pillow Hermione had been used to block him out was used instead, to dislodge some of his brain cells.

The pillow fell to the floor with a thud. Draco blinked a few times and Hermione took the few precious seconds of silence—reveling in their utter simplicity…before it started again.

"I have to marry Pansy!" Draco sunk to his knees and began pounding his head on the floor.

Hermione shook her head and watched the spectacle. "Oh jeez, get up you idiot. You don't know that you have to marry Pansy yet."

Draco looked up, his face horrified. "Oh yes I do."

Crossing her arms, Hermione peered down at the hysterical blond. "Okay then. How do you know? Did you suddenly become clairvoyant or were you doused in radioactive material as a child?" she paused, observing him for a second. "Come to think of it, that last one couldn't be too far from the truth. You are a freak of nature."

Draco shook his head furiously. "Say what you like, insult me, you aren't the one who has to marry Pansy!"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Oh yeah, silly me, for a second there I thought that I had to. My bad."

Draco crawled to his feet. "This whole thing is because of her. I know it. It's because of her this whole stupid thing is happening."

"Possibly."

"Not possibly, my dear, it is."

Hermione threw up her hands. "Fine, Malfoy... but the next time you call me dear, you are going to regret it."

Draco perked for a moment. "Really? Does it include death? Like, instant? Say, before I marry Pansy?"

"Now why would I do that? I'd really be missing the greatest thing to happen in this school for a very long time. Fred and George couldn't even top it."

Draco bit his bottom lip. "Dear."

Hermione grimaced.

"Dear, dear, dear…" Draco watched as Hermione turned away. "My dear." He whispered. Hermione spun around—her face calm and composed.

"What did you say?"

Draco smirked. "I called you 'my dear'."

"That's what I thought. Well, as much as the thought of murdering you pleases me at the moment, seeing you being married off to Pansy is even more so. Well, that will definitely be the highlight of my life." She sighed dramatically. "And get it straight, I am NOT your anything—got it Malfoy?"

"Oh? You're not? My mistake. I could have sworn you were mine."

Hermione shook her head. "That's it." And she lunged.

* * *

"Did you hear something?"

"Eh?"

Miriam shook her head. "Be quiet."

A loud crash came from behind the door, followed by a fit of cursing.

Harry grimaced as he heard Hermione's voice. "Err, that doesn't sound too good."

"Maybe we should come back later?" Miriam bit her lip as the ground shook under her feet. "A lot later."

"Well, I'd say that prick's getting what he deserves." Charlotte grinned. "About time too."

Harry looked over at her. "I don't get it. You keep hinting at these things. Is there something going on that I don't know about?" He looked at both the Slytherins. "That I should know about?"

Charlotte shook her head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, now shut up." She knocked on the portrait three times. The cursing and the banging and the crashing and everything stopped. A few minutes later the door opened.

Draco stuck his head out of the portrait. "What the hell do you want?"

Charlotte pushed past him. "Get out of my way."

Draco sulked by the door as Harry and Miriam entered.

"Is Hermione here?"

Draco shrugged. "She was."

"Oh, well don't you look pretty in purple. What did you say? I told you that big mouth of yours would get you in trouble someday."

Draco grumbled something inaudible.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you, is your face too swollen to speak audibly?"

Draco frowned. "Merlin, you two aren't cousins, you're freaking clones!" Charlotte laughed and Draco stalked from the room. "And I thought the Mr. McGale was sadistic. Boy was I wrong." He slammed the door to his room closed.

"Wow. Drama, drama, drama."

Harry shook his head. "You better believe it."

Charlotte took in the room. "Hermione sure did lose it, didn't she?"

Miriam looked at the scattered books and chairs, the upturned table. "That had to hurt."

"What hurt?" Hermione asked, entering the common room.

Miriam shook her head. "Oh nothing."

"Do you guys need something?"

Harry nodded. "We wanted your help on something."

Charlotte, who had still been assessing the damage, looked up. "Yes, this whole marriage thing." Pulling the packet out. "What the hell is this? Isn't there some law against it? I don't want to be married to someone they choose. Is it permanent?" She took a breath for air.

"Charlotte, I get it."

"Are you sure? 'Cause I've got more."

Hermione shook her head. "Come on. Sit down and I'll help you out."

The three sat on the couch and Hermione returned the table to its rightful position.

"Okay. So, first off, no—there is no law against the use of _Adamo Noctic; Matrimonium_. The reason for that is that the potion is actually more of a substitute for the real thing, an experience if you will."

"Eh?"

"Okay." Hermione ran her hand through her hair, gathering it back and securing it into a bun. "Demens, the woman who invented the potion was…very bitter and very, well, insane. The fact that she never did get to marry, even though she'd been proposed to is what pretty much drove her to make it. The thing is that you can't force marriage on someone, a real, binding, forever, unbreakable bond. You can't do that without the consent of both people."

"Which the psychiatrists do not have. So they can't do this." Harry looked relieved.

Hermione shook her head. "That is why they are using _Adamo Noctic. _It is not a real marriage, and it is not forever binding. It will bind you to a person for only a few weeks. I believe two at the most. What it does is simulate affection between the two drinkers of the potion."

"Oh Merlin!"

The four students looked towards Malfoy's closed door. Charlotte grinned. "He's about to die, isn't he."

Hermione smiled slyly. "If only. Now, any other questions?"

Miriam looked up. "Why exactly are they doing this?"

Hermione shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Imagine this. A box full of starved rats, throw in some cheese, sit back, and observe."

"We're fucked." Harry leaned back. "Who's going to be my lucky lady?"

"That, my friend, is the ultimate question, isn't it?"

The silence was broken by the soft whispers coming from a certain blond Slytherin's closed door. "Not Pansy. Not Pansy. Not Pansy…"

The four looked at each other before breaking out with laughter.

By dinnertime, Draco had still not come out of his room. Hermione paced the common room before making up her mind. Walking to his door, she knocked.

"What?"

"When are you going to come out of there?"

"You said this thing would last for two weeks?"

"Most likely."

"Well, the answer was in the question."

Hermione sighed. "You're not coming out then?"

"Boy, when did you grow a brain?"

"I'm not the one who's going to hide for two weeks." Hermione waited, but Malfoy stayed quiet. "I think the next time Pansy comes around knocking I'll let her in. Once she's in here, she'll have no trouble getting through this door."

As she'd hoped, the door swung open and a very appalled Malfoy rushed out, taking her by the shoulders. "No! Don't do that, I'll be good, but Merlin, don't do that. I'll jump out the window again. And that time I'll make sure I have a couple of metal stakes to land on."

Hermione smirked. "Well, I got you out of there, didn't I? You can contemplate the painful landing later. Dinner is calling and I'm hungry. Come."

The two made their way to the Great Hall, Malfoy pausing outside the entrance.

"What now?"

"Is she in there?"

Sighing, Hermione peeked around the corner and scanned the hall. "Nope."

"You're lying. She doesn't pass up the opportunity of food."

Hermione shook her head. "I swear, it's one of those rare occasions that she isn't in there. I promise."

Draco peered around the corner and sighed with relief.

Hermione grinned as they walked to their table. "You want to know something?"

"What?"

"Pansy probably wanted to look good in her wedding dress. You know, drop a few pounds."

Draco paled. "That wasn't funny."

Blaise smacked his back as Draco sat down. "Yes, it was. And I have to agree with Granger. Most likely, that is the reason she isn't here. She wouldn't be able to contain herself—and then her dream of being thinner for her wedding day would be a thing of the past."

Hermione and Blaise laughed as the plates appeared. The three ate silently until Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"Students. I have an announcement to make. First off, all of you of age—that is fourth years and up—have been informed of your upcoming nuptials." Dumbledore, never a man to ruin a good joke, chuckled. "Per request of your counselors, your upcoming partner will be told to each of you individually. Now, to make this as close to reality as possible, you will be planning, executing, and living out the wedding and marriage with your soon-to-be-announced partner.

By that, I mean that once you have been informed of your partner you two are to get together and plan first, the wedding. The wedding details will be explained fully to each of you later, but for example you will have to pick location, guests, flowers, and decorations. Anything you want will be provided—of course, I must stave off any of you who want to go out of country for your wedding, you'll have to suffice with the grounds and towns around Hogwarts. " Dumbledore paused and a few squeals of delight could be heard around the room. "After that you will be living as a couple, however, you will be couples in your respectable families—as a compromising marriage you must decide together which family you both will join. Other than that, I have been informed that you should go to your assigned counselor in your assigned groups after dinner. That is all."

"Wow. They're really going all out on this one aren't they?" Ginny asked, sitting down next to Hermione.

"Very true."

Ginny waited a second. "So, who do you think you'll be with?"

Hermione shook her head. "No idea."

"Are you excited?"

"No."

"I am."

"Well, you're normal."

"And you're not?"

"Nope."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, there goes my family. I'll see you later!"

Hermione finished her dinner before making her way to the psychiatrists' office, joining the line outside. To her surprise, Malfoy was already in line.

"Didn't think you'd show."

"I didn't have a choice. For your information, I wasn't going to, but Ms. Danna pulled me here and told me that if I left, she'd make sure that my _marriage_ was a living hell. Like it won't be married to that thing already." Draco shuddered and pointed to the person who was first in line. Pansy.

It wasn't long before the students were being ushered in, one by one. Draco grimaced as Pansy waved to him before closing the door behind him. "If there is a god, please let him intervene."

Hermione patted him on the back. "Be a champ."

"A champ?"

"Oh, never mind."

"What's a champ?"

"Muggle term you idiot. You wouldn't understand."

"Are you saying I'm too stupid to understand your pathetic muggle dialect?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"But, w-"

"Look, it's your turn. Now be good. Don't bite." And with that she gave him a nice hard shove into hell.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy." Ms. Danna's long bony fingers ran down her list. "Oh yes. Pansy Parkinson."

Draco stood there, a blank look on his face.

"You may go."

"Are you sure?"

"Excuse me?"

Draco remained composed. "Are you sure it says Parkinson?"

"Positive."

* * *

"Ms. Granger." Ms. Danna looked down at her papers. Behind her Mr. McGale was yawning. "You are a special case. We decided that you should be more a coordinator of this, to make sure it isn't a fiasco."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You mean, I'm to remain unmarried."

"That's correct, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you." Hermione stood, taking the expected information and rule packets from Ms. Danna and left the room with a smile.

* * *

"Harry." Mr. McGale shook his hand. "Congratulations we have you paired with Miriam De'Lunic."

* * *

"Ms. Weasley, your partner is Blaise Zabini."

* * *

"Charlotte." Mr. McGale looked only slightly fearful as he looked at Charlotte.

"Don't even say it."

"Your partner is…"

"You're really going to regret it if the name that comes out of your mouth rhymes with measly."

"Ron Weasley."

* * *

Draco was waiting for Hermione when she came out.

"What are you smiling for?"

"No reason."

"Yeah right, who do you have to marry?"

Hermione smirked. "Not Pansy. Where is she by the way? You two should start getting cozy."

Draco made a face. "I'd rather—uh oh!"

A very crazy female, known to many as Pansy, was sighted down the corridor. All would have remained well, except for the fact that not only had she been spotted, but she had spotted her to-be-husband.

"Drakie!"

"Oh fuck!" Draco pushed Hermione in front of the oncoming Pansy and dashed away.

Carefully maneuvering out of harms way, Hermione turned. "You can't run forever!" She called after the fleeing Slytherin.

"So, I guess we got off easy. We get along pretty well, right?" Harry watched his shoes as he and Miriam walked down the hallway.

"Yeah. We're lucky. Charlotte, though I don't like her, is stuck with my darling cousin Ron. That match, is well, going to be interesting."

Just then, a streak of blond and black rushed passed them, screaming.

"What's he running from?"

"Drakie! Come back! I won't make you wear a pink tux, I promise, just stop running!"

Miriam shook her head. "I don't' think she sounded all that convincing."

"He's still running."

"Oh, he'll be running 'till he collapses."

"Boy, can't you see Malfoy in a pink tux, with frills and ribbons?"

Miriam grinned. "Watch what you say boyo, I'm partial to my men wearing feminine colors."

Harry paled and scooted over a small bit, intent on keeping at least three feet between them while she had that grin on her face.

But that was only the beginning of what was to come. If he'd known to at the time, Harry would have been running for the hills…pink suits being the least of his worries.

* * *


	16. Pansy Attacks Again

* * *

**Evaluate This!**

**Chapter 16**

**Pansy Attacks (again)**

* * *

"You can't run forever!" Pansy shouted down the corridor as she slowed, then stopped. Her breath came out in short puffs. She watched Draco's head turn slightly a look of triumph crossing his face before he ran headlong into a wall. 

"Gotcha." Pansy huffed and took off towards the dazed Slytherin.

Draco gingerly touched his forehead. "Shit." He whispered as he heard Pansy behind him.

"It's over Drakie. You're marrying me, I told you that you would."

Draco turned around. "Nothings over yet." He took off again, only to run into Hermione, knocking them both to the ground.

"Uh…" Hermione blinked. "Could you get off?"

Draco mumbled, getting to his feet. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to _her_ Drakie. Come here, are you hurt?" Pansy took hold of Draco's arm, yanking him to her. Her hands ran over him, an overprotective mother—or rather someone inspecting the value of an object.

Draco grimaced and pushed her hands away. "I'm fine."

"Honey."

"What?"

Pansy nodded. "Honey, you should address me as honey, or sweetheart, or…" She paused, thinking. Hermione took a deep breath, swallowing the laughter that had come up as a look of pure horror crossed Malfoy's face.

"She's right. You are to address your partner as if you were in love."

Pansy smirked. "We _are_ in love. There's no acting going on mudblood."

Hermione shook her head. "I believe you Pansy."

Draco couldn't say anything, he just watched as Hermione walked away, leaving him with the rabid woman—his soon-to-be wife. Draco shuddered.

"Are you cold Drakie? Come here." She pulled Draco to her. "Now isn't that better?"

Draco wanted to cry.

* * *

Ron sat across from Charlotte, who had not moved or blinked or even appeared to breath for the last ten minutes. 

"Uh, it won't be that bad…or maybe it will be." Ron added quickly as Charlotte's eyes darkened.

Ron stopped looking at her. Instead he looked at the floor.

The ceiling.

His shoes.

The crack in the wall.

The floor again.

Above her head.

Her feet.

The corner.

Until his eyes settled on the one and only exit.

Charlotte shook her head and sighed. "I don't agree with any of this."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Ron let out a sigh of relief. "Entirely."

Taking a deep breath, Ron sat up. "I'm sorry you have this really crappy outlook on life and everything, but you aren't going to be taking it out on me. You think I'm thrilled that I was paired with you? Well think again. But guess what we're stuck with each other until this thing ends, so get off your high horse and come join us mortals here on the ground."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Good, do you feel more like a man now?"

"You're impossible."

"Right on."

"Fine, I don't care that you're not going to remove that stick from your ass, but…Hermione?"

Charlotte turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway, an amused smirk on her face.

"You two getting along well I see."

"Then you must be blind." Charlotte stood. "So who's your lucky fellow."

Hermione shook her head, her eyes twinkling. "I don't have one."

Ron looked up. "What?"

"Well, I have basically been assigned the job of marriage counselor. Fun, don't you think?"

Ron leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hands.

"You don't have to do this?"

"That's right Charlotte, alls I have to do is advise and help you guys through this."

"Great." Ron muttered.

"What was that?"

Ron didn't look at Hermione instead he looked at Charlotte. "Now we've got another shrink to see darling."

"I'd say we're screwed."

Ron nodded.

Hermione grinned. "I completely agree.

* * *

Miriam sat at the table, Harry across from her. "Aren't you going to eat?" 

Harry shook his head. "You made me sick to my stomach."

"I was only joking."

"You didn't look like you were joking."

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on now. I still think it'd be good."

"I am _not_ going to have a 'bay watch' themed wedding, are you insane?"

"I've been told so."

"Well they were telling the truth."

"Come on Harry, admit it would be funny."

Harry shook his head. "No, it would be completely disgusting."

"Just think red Speedo."

Harry turned green. "You're going to make me throw up."

Miriam shrugged, a huge grin on her face. "I wonder how Ron's doing. Charlotte isn't exactly Ms. Sunshine. I think even the rest of the Slytherins think she's the ultimate Ice Queen."

"She is different." Harry said carefully.

"Yes I am. And your idiot cousin is fine." Charlotte sat down across from Miriam and took Harry's untouched plate of food.

Ron sat next down next to Harry. "Verbal abuse, I'm going to tell our therapist that you're demeaning me."

Harry's eyebrow rose, as did Miriam's. "What are you talking about, Ron?"

"Harry, you know that person who I until a few minutes ago considered my friend?"

"Uh?"

Charlotte leaned back. "Let me give you a hint, we're related."

"Hermione?"

"That's right."

"I'm still confused."

Ron stabbed a potato. "She doesn't have to marry anybody, instead she is going to be our bloody _marriage counselor_. We not only have to be evaluated on a weekly basis by the psychiatrists we now have to have daily sessions with Hermione!"

Miriam smiled.

"Oh wait, it gets better." Charlotte leaned forward. "If this wasn't already bad enough, Hermione will also be the wedding planner, we go through her for everything and if we do not participate sufficiently she gets control over the entire wedding."

"Wow. But aren't you glad it's Hermione instead of, say, Ms. Danna?"

"Yeah, but it's not fair. I've got to marry this thing." Charlotte waved her hand in Ron's direction. "And she doesn't have to do anything but laugh at how badly this is going to turn out."

Harry shook his head, not able to suppress his smile. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that life _isn't_ fair?"

* * *

"Oh shut up." 

"So."

"So."

"Well."

"Well."

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"No."

"Then…"

"Well, I don't know you, you don't know me, but we're getting married in a few days."

"Truer words have never been spoken."

"So."

"So."

"Well?"

"Never ending circle."

Ginny smiled. "Yeah."

"Well, okay…um, do we want to get to know each other?"

"Twenty questions."

"What?"

"Basically, just ask each other questions. It's not complicated."

"Okay." Blaise sat back. They'd met on common ground.

"Well, I guess I have to start."

"That would be a good idea."

"Okay, so…um, I guess…"

Blaise smiled. "Harder than you thought right?"

Ginny nodded. "Um, how about…what's your favorite flavor ice-cream?"

"That's easy. Vanilla."

"Vanilla?"

"I'm not complicated. I like simple things."

"Oh."

Blaise leaned forward. "My turn?"

"Go ahead."

"Okay, your favorite flavor of ice-cream?"

Ginny pondered a second. "I guess I'd have to say strawberry."

"Yuck."

"What's wrong with strawberry ice-cream?"

"It's just disgusting is all."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Have you ever had it before?"

Blaise didn't answer.

"See, you wouldn't know a good thing if it smacked you in the face, you'd be too busy denying it."

"Fine. We'll serve strawberry ice cream at our wedding reception and I'll have some. But until then I will maintain that it is disgusting."

Ginny grinned. "You know, you're really cool."

Blaise shrugged. "I know how to compromise. But, thank you."

"No problem."

* * *

Hermione sat back on the couch; a book perched on her knee, and lay there smiling. It was funny how things turned out—the different turns life took. Humming, she flipped through the book, noting different potions and spells and charms to help her manage the circus that was about to start. 

She marked the pages she'd need later, wrote down the ingredients she'd have to get from Professor Snape, and fell asleep.

Draco managed to lose Pansy by taking a moving staircase, glad for once in his life that Pansy was who she was. She had sat at the gap and screamed for him to come back. She'd threatened, pleaded, cried, and attempted blackmail all before he could get out of hearing range.

Now he was going to go to his room, lock the door, and hope to god he didn't piss Hermione off enough that she would actually let Pansy in the common room.

The portrait swung shut behind him, Draco looked to Hermione's closed door. He wondered if he should apologize again for knocking her down.

"Nah."

Draco turned and saw Hermione asleep on the couch. He walked over, lightly shaking her until she woke.

When you wanted to get information from someone…Draco shook her harder.

"What?" Hermione asked, turning away from the person who woke her.

"Where'd you put it?"

"Put what?"

"The pendant."

Hermione shot up, fully awake. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No I don't."

"Why'd your cousin come this year?"

"Because she wanted to."

"No she didn't. She was sent."

Hermione shook her head. "You wake me up for this?" She yawned. "I'm going to bed." Draco grabbed her arm.

"Don't you start copying Pansy now."

"If you wouldn't be so hard headed, I wouldn't have to."

"Look who's talking Malfoy!"

"I—did you hear something?"

The knocking came again. "Don't open the door."

"You woke me up."

"I'm sorry."

Hermione stood by the portrait. "Too bad." The portrait swung open and Hermione hurried out of the visitor's line of sight.

And Pansy barreled in. "Drakie!"

Draco jumped, scrambling away. "I hate you!" He screamed at Hermione.

Hermione shrugged, yawned, and left. "Pansy 2, Malfoy 0." She was going to sleep well tonight.

* * *


	17. Black Roses and Tombstones

* * *

**Evaluate This!**

**Chapter 17**

**Black roses and Tombstones**

* * *

Draco sat with his _fiancé_ by his side; she was clutching his hand tightly—too tightly. He tried to wiggle his fingers, but that only made Pansy smile and scoot closer to him. He grimaced, but managed to put on his trademark smirk as Hermione entered the room.

Hermione sat down and reviewed the questions she was required to ask of each couple. She laughed inside as she watched Malfoy try to squirm away from Pansy.

"So have you two decided on a theme or your color scheme for the wedding?"

"Yes."

"No."

Pansy elbowed Draco in the ribs. "Be quiet, if you know what's good for you."

Hermione shook her head, keeping her face placid. "I'm sure you realize that you must discuss and agree _together_ upon this."

Pansy nodded her head. "We understand that."

"No you don't." Draco mumbled.

"Shush." Pansy smiled sweetly at Hermione. "He doesn't know what's good for him."

Hermione smiled back, watching Malfoy flush pink with anger. "Though I agree wholeheartedly with you," she nodded to Pansy, "I'm supposed to let you both speak and help you come to a decision."

Pansy's eyes scrunched together as she contemplated what might be said if Draco were allowed to speak freely. Shrugging, she sighed. "If I have to."

"There's the spirit we're looking for." Hermione thought she heard Malfoy growl. "Do you have something to say Draco?" she asked sweetly.

Draco held back the urge to…well, do something very unpleasant…and wrong. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do."

The two girls stared at him; their eyes intense, Draco felt himself shrink back—away from them both.

Pansy laughed. "See, this is why I don't let him talk on his own. He's so lost without guidance."

Hermione nodded. "I see what you mean." This time she distinctly heard a growl coming from the Slytherin.

"So, your idea, Pansy, for your wedding?"

Pansy sat forward, tugging Draco so that he had to sit up with her. "I was thinking…"

"Merlin, please don't say pink." Draco mumbled.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, I was thinking about a dominatrix sort of theme."

Hermione coughed, leaning forward to hide the surprise on her face. When she managed to look up, Pansy was looking dreamy while Draco was as pale as a ghost.

"I…I'm not sure that that would be, um, appropriate."

"Damn right it's not!" Draco screamed, standing suddenly.

"Sit down." Both girls commanded. Draco stared, his mouth gaping, before, defeated, he sat back down.

"I'll have to check to see if you can do that. In the meantime, I think we should discuss, um, an alternate option."

"Oh, well, I guess that's a good idea."

Draco let out his breath, maybe now he'd get a say in what _he_ wanted.

Unfortunately for him, Pansy and Hermione seemed to be forming a friendship based on his discomfort. The ideas getting rolled off became more and more and more—Draco shook his head—ridiculous.

"Oh, what do you think about this?" Pansy scuttled over from where she'd been tearing through muggle magazines Hermione had brought with her.

Hermione glanced over them and squealed. "Oh my!" She cried, looking pointedly at Draco.

Draco sighed and thought of how nice it would be if he'd just melt, melt away. He moaned as Pansy let out a shriek of delight, clapping her hands and jumping up and down—he covered his eyes and imagined how pleasant it would be to just die. He observed the two girls, glancing at the clock above them. They'd been at this for more than three hours…didn't Hermione have some other person to torture?

He watched them, as they poured over magazines and diagrams and just came up with completely ludicrous ideas…none of which he would ever—ever—ever—ever agree to.

"I think we should do a rendition of this!" Pansy said, shoving a torn page under Hermione's nose.

Hermione looked the paper over. "So," she looked at Draco, "What do you think about a who-nose?"

"Who knows? What? I don't get it!" Draco squirmed in his seat as Hermione grinned.

"You know, the Who's of Whosville? Their noses kind of grow right out of their top lip. Oh and they put eggs on a plate and wear it on their shirt and put eggnog in a punch bowl and wear it like a hat. What do you think Drakie?"

Pansy tapped Hermione's shoulder. "You can't call him Drakie."

"My apologies."

Pansy watched Draco carefully. "However, you can call him what I used to call him."

Draco turned rigid.

"What might that have been?" Hermione asked, her eyes going to Malfoy who had suddenly began doing a very good impression of a piece of wood.

"Well, it's a long story…" Pansy drawled, prolonging the torture as Draco's left eye twitched.

"Oh, we've got all day." Hermione said. "I told Ms. Danna that I would need the whole day with you two."

"And you were right." Pansy interjected.

"Touché."

Amid giggles and laughter, Draco paced the now candle lit room. He'd become nothing more than the passing shadow, neither Pansy nor Hermione had acknowledged his existence since he'd tried—and failed—to throw in his opinion. He could probably spontaneously combust and they wouldn't notice.

Or care.

"So, we've decided on a pale lavender for your bridesmaids and a classic pureblood style wedding, correct?"

"Yes, and powder blue tux's for the best groomsmen. Oh, and I think that the best man should be a different color from the rest, and so should the maid of honor."

Hermione scratched down the requests. "Okay, so, what colors?"

Draco tuned them out. The endless discussing of colors or fabrics or colors and fabrics or colors of printed fabric…he was going to go insane.

"Too late." He murmured to himself…he continued pacing…but something was different. His footsteps slowed, and his eyes came off the floor to see two sets of female eyes staring at him. "What?"

"You talked." Hermione kept a straight face as the blond Slytherin ran a hand through his hair.

Pansy sniffled. "He's going to ruin it!" She cried, breaking down into tears.

Draco's jaw hit the floor. "I didn't do a damn thing! What is your problem Pansy?"

Pansy looked up at Hermione with teary eyes. "You see what I have to go through?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco wanted to pull his hair out. "You can't fucking believe this!" He motioned to Pansy. "Why are you siding with her? Why?"

"I'm not siding with anyone Malfoy." Hermione said, her face remaining composed.

"Arghhh! Yes you are!"

"No. I'm not." Her voice was calm.

"How can you sit there and do this to me!" Draco's voice was nearing a very high pitch.

"I'm not doing anything." Hermione patted the now sobbing Pansy on the back.

Draco did a very impromptu dance…one with a lot of kicking, jumping, and air punching.

"You done yet?"

Draco sneered. "No." But instead of staying another minute, he walked out of the room.

Pansy sat up.

"You got a real gem in that one."

Wiping the fake tears from her eyes, Pansy grinned. "Don't I know it." She smoothed her hair back, glanced at the clock. "Well, I think it's time you paid up."

Hermione shook her head and handed Pansy two galleons. "He couldn't have held out for twenty more minutes."

"Nope. He can't stand being ignored for more than an hour—it's hard on his ego."

"You would know." Hermione yawned. "So, I think I've got what you want down. All's I need now is a song—for you two to dance to."

"Oh, I've had that picked out for years." Pansy grabbed a quill and scribbled something down on a piece of paper, handing it to Hermione.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

As soon as Hermione had finally straightened up her makeshift office, she left. The halls was deserted, all students were in their dormitories. Picking up the knit sweater she'd brought with her, she put it on and headed outside.

The sky was clean, the kind of crisp clean that comes during fall and lasts through winter—leaving the sky a wonderful pattern of sparkling diamonds. Dreams.

Hermione stared at the sky, remembering a time when she'd look up at those stars as a little girl and wish—wish for something extraordinary to happen to her.

"What are you doing? You should be back in our room by now."

Hermione groaned. If only her wish had come true. A world without Malfoy…oh what a world that would be.

"Our room, Malfoy?"

"Yes, _our_ room. Got a problem?"

"Yes—I"

"No. Shut up. No more talking."

Hermione had to put her hand over her mouth to control her laughing. "I know you've been whipped, but seriously don't take out your pathetic excuse of male ego on me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "She's horrible."

"I could say the same thing about you."

Draco looked incredulous. "What could you possibly be talking about?"

"Easy, you've made many people's lives hell, including mine. So I'd say, your getting what you deserve."

"No one deserves this."

Hermione could only shake her head.

"You want to take a walk?"

"So that you can murder me in the deep dark woods, no, I don't think so."

"I don't want to kill you. What would be the fun in that?"

"What would you want?"

"I'd want to marry you."

* * *

Blaise and Ginny didn't need Hermione's help…except for ordering and obtaining decorations. They had already worked everything out.

"May I just say, you two are doing really great. I think the psychologists didn't do too good of research."

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked.

"I just meant that they were trying to pair us off for the worst."

Ginny and Blaise shrugged.

"I guess we just overcame our differences."

"And quickly found out what we had in common."

Hermione applauded.

* * *

It wasn't that easy however for poor Ron. Hermione slouched in the chair, nodding her head tiredly at Ron who had been talking non-stop since he and Charlotte had walked in. Charlotte mirrored Hermione, slumped in her seat and on the verge of tears.

"She doesn't respect my wishes. She doesn't do anything but make fun of me. She puts me down constantly. I can't do this, it is immoral to put us together, and she told me to jump out a window. Not that I would mind you, even though it would get me away from her, but Malfoy already did that and I can't follow in his footsteps. And I think she knew this when she said it cause she looked really smug and I just wanted to smack her but mum said I could never hurt a girl or anyone but I think she'd make an exception for Malfoy and all those other pureblood idiots. She hates me, she's done nothing but tell me so since I met her on the train. And my hair is not pumpkin orange. Its red! Red! I am a red head not a pumpkin head! I do not have large ears, I measured them, they are just fine, between my eyes and nose, and they are the right size! So stop making fun of my ears. And for the last time, I don't have pale skin; I'm a red head! I don't know what her problem is; I can't open my mouth without her yelling at me to shut it. I can't walk down the hallway without her screaming at me that I'm stupid, or dumb, or dimwitted, or a pumpkin head!"

Hermione's eyebrow rose and Charlotte shrugged. "Ron, let me clue you in on something, it's called 'puppy love' and Charlotte has it bad for you."

"And there you go again, saying all these muggle words!" He turned to Charlotte. "I am NOT a muggle! I did not grow up with that stupid crap! I do not know what the hell you guys are talking about. I know what love means, and I know what a puppy is, but what the hell is 'puppy love'? It probably doesn't even mean anything. You just made up a new word to confuse me again."

"Would you please just shut up!"

Ron ground to a halt.

Hermione said a silent blessing. "Okay, Ron, now calmly sit down in that chair…over there." She had begun to point to the chair next to Charlotte, but reconsidered.

Ron sat down and Charlotte yawned. "Finally."

"What is your problem?" Ron screamed.

Shaking her head Hermione pushed on Ron's shoulders, keeping him seated. "She is only messing with you. Calm down."

"I don't understand what I did wrong." Ron said miserably.

"You breathe." Charlotte hissed.

"So do you." Ron replied—completely missing the implication.

Hermione sat back down, watching Ron as he mumbled. "How bout we do this in a really simple manner. Okay? This is what we'll do. I will ask a question, you can only answer if you raise your hand and I call on you. Got it?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

"That goes for you too. I told you to lay off him for a bit."

"I just wanted him to see what he was going to be coming home to each night."

"Oh Merlin." Ron slumped in his seat. "I am never getting married. Ever."

"I second that." Charlotte flipped her hair out of her face. "You should never be given the opportunity to reproduce."

"Damn it, what is your problem?" Ron stood.

Hermione leapt up to intercept an almost angry Ron. "I am enacting the no talking without permission policy right now. Sit down, Ron!" she shoved him back in his chair. "Neither of you are to move unless I say so, talk unless I say so, or breathe. Got it?"

Ron nodded.

Charlotte only glared fingering the pendant around her neck she slowly raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Can I glare?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course. Now. Have either of you got an idea of what you want to do for your wedding?"

"Tombstones." Charlotte muttered.

"Raise your hand if you want to speak. Remember?" Ron mimicked Hermione.

"I'll speak when I want, and where I want you Pumpkin head."

"I am _not_ a Pumpkin head!"

"ENOUGH!" Hermione took a deep breath. "You two are worse than children. Grow up!"

Both Ron and Charlotte glared at the floor.

"What did you mean by 'Tombstones'?"

Charlotte sighed. "Well, since this isn't exactly a peachy predicament, I thought it rather fitting if Pumpkin head and I were married in a graveyard."

"Ron?"

Ron shook his head. "Whatever she wants, give it to her. I'm just going to be the corpse standing next to her. Maybe then our honeymoon could be to go see hell, cause I think the devil and Charlotte have a lot of catching up to do."

Hermione nodded, a small grin on her face. "Always a bright spot in even the darkest room."

Ron grinned, his old cheery self back. "Yep!"

* * *

Harry and Miriam were quiet as Hermione searched for another well of ink. "So do you guys have an idea yet about your wedding?"

"Yes." Miriam said softly as she watched Hermione crawl under the desk after the paper she'd knocked down there in search for the ink. "Taxidermy, actually."

A loud thump was heard and Harry grinned. Hermione emerged from under the desk.

"Are you serious?"

"Completely." Miriam took Harry's hand.

Hermione stared at them wide-eyed.

For one minute.

Two.

Three..

Four…

Four and a half…

Harry waved his hand in front of Hermione. "It was a joke. She isn't serious."

"But I am serious about the snakeskin suit."

"I am not wearing anything made out of a snake." Harry crossed his arms.

"Many snakes."

"That's just sick."

Hermione nodded her head, agreeing with Harry. "I wouldn't support that, so you can drop all thoughts of a snakeskin suit."

Miriam shrugged. "Okay, how about a gorilla suit?"

"How bout not." Harry rubbed his head. "I think we should have a historical based wedding. I'll let you choose the time period if you'll lay off this costume obsession."

Miriam sat for a moment. "Fine, sounds good. Are we done yet?" She looked to Hermione.

"All's I need is the time period and you're done for today."

After the last couple had left, Hermione began to sort the mess of notes. Her job was more difficult than she had initially expected. She had to book bands, initiate spells, find spells…it was going to be a long week. A very long week.

* * *

A/N: Please Review...


	18. Runaways

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* * *

**

Evaluate This!

**Chapter 18**

**Runaway Bride…I mean…Groom…oh and Physiatrist.

* * *

**

"Good morning."

Harry rolled over, blinking up at the insanely jovial face. "Wha canyou possiblyyyy wannt." Harry moaned, pulling the blankets over his head.

"Come on now. You're the only one left. UP!" Miriam yanked the covers off. "See. No one but you and me." She grinned, setting down a thick, white, frilly…thing, on Harry's bed.

"What's that?" Harry asked, sitting up.

Miriam sat down; flipping the frilly thing up and facing it so Harry could get a _real_ good look at it. "Our wedding album, darling."

Harry's eyes grew wide. There were pictures…and weird trimming, and lace...and…

"What are you going to do with that?"

Miriam smiled sweetly.

Harry cringed. At that moment, Harry hated women.

"Come on. It's not hard. Harry, all you've got to do is pose just like this." Miriam held up a doctored photo of Harry and herself. "See, you just need to tilt your head to the left. No the other left."

Harry looked heaven ward. "Please help me." He pleaded with whatever force was in control of his life.

"Oh, Harry!" Miriam stamped her foot. "It's not _that_ hard! Just do it."

Grumbling, Harry turned sideways, posing in what he thought was a very macho—and so not him—pose. "You sound like a Nike commercial."

Miriam ignored him, opting to fuss with his hair. "Make it lie flat."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You think it would always look like this if I could do that, huh?" It was bad enough that she was making him get all the fake pictures she'd made into real photographs, but they had an audience.

Harry could not be more gratefully for Ron's attention disorder than he was now. His friend was asleep, his head tilted back, across the room. Ron's fiancée however looked as if she were contemplating the best method of smothering him to death.

Harry shook his head.

"Harry!" Miriam smacked him. "Why did you move? I had everything perfect."

"Don't you think you're taking this a bit too far?"

Miriam glared at him.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong." Harry bowed his head, staring at his feet.

"About time you figured that out. Now look up."

Charlotte looked over Ron's face. She had to admit, he wouldn't be so bad looking if he'd do something with his hair.

Something moved—and giggled—outside the open door. Charlotte looked up—the hallway outside was empty. Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the sleeping Gryffindor.

Smirking, she decided he was getting a bit too comfortable, picking up a book she stood, letting it drop with a thud that could wake the dead.

The noise reverberated around the room, rousing the sleeping Ron.

"ALIENS ARE ATTACKING! WHERE'S MY WAND!" Ron jumped up, his wand in hand and spun around.

"Um…" Harry looked to Miriam.

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ron, the aliens are attacking, go shoo them away would you?"

"Come on, Ron-boy, let's go get those big bad aliens." Charlotte took the pale redhead by the arm.

"NO! They are after me. They are covered in black hair…they have four eyes." Ron pleaded with them.

"So…Harry was after you?" Charlotte asked.

"Hey!" Harry cried indignantly. "I am not covered in black hair."

Miriam looked him over. "You sure about that?"

Harry looked down. "AHHHHHH!" he ran his hands over his thick black coat of hair.

"I was thinking more something along the lines of 'aww', you look cute." Miriam observed. "Hey, you moved."

Harry's eyes opened wide. "Of course I moved, I'm covered in hair and…" he ran his hand through his hair. "I've got ears!"

Ron calmed somewhat as he looked at his friend. "And a tail." He added innocently.

Harry looked at his bottom and sure enough a very hairy, fluffy, and black tail was there. "No. NO. No. NO. NO. NO. Noooooo…. what did you do to me? No. Don't answer that." Harry ran across the room, yanking the curtains from the window and wrapping them around himself. "Where's Hermione! Where's Hermione?"

He ran out of the room, accidentally knocking into Ron, who fell hard to the ground.

"He makes a cute cat. Don't you think?" Miriam asked, looking to Ron. "Erm…Ron, uh…"

"Oh, I'm not hurt." Ron said. "I fell on the couch."

Miriam shook her head. "Uh…that's not a couch…"

"Imgonannafrigsssinkillssyou."

Ron looked down. "Oh my Merlin! Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry. Sorry." He rolled off Charlotte, his face bright red. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he squeaked as Charlotte stood, "I'm sorry." He managed once more before she looked up at him. "Oh god."

"I'm so going to freaking kill you." Charlotte mumbled.

"It was an accident, Charlotte, Ron didn't mean it, just calm down."

Charlotte glanced at Miriam, her eyes glittering. "I _am_ calm."

Ron let out a sigh of relief.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Ron tore out of the room, Charlotte right on his tail.

"Somebody help me!" Ron screamed as he ran down the deserted hallway.

Miriam stuck her head out of the door and watched as the two rounded the corner. "Yep, very calm."

* * *

Draco closed the portrait behind him quietly. He'd finally managed to lose Pansy on the moving staircases. Having proudly bought himself some more time, he now looked for the second thing on his agenda. Hermione.

He found her with her back turned, slowly he crept up behind her, putting his hands over her eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Malfoy."

"Damn."

"Well, I got it right, don't I get a prize."

Draco removed his hands, smirking. "Sure, but you probably won't like it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'd be right."

"Rain check then?"

Hermione pushed him away. "I've got work to do, and I don't see why you keep trying to…" she shook her head. "Do, whatever it is you're doing."

Draco sat down, motioning for her to do the same. Hermione sat. "Let's do this logically. You like to do things in order, right?" Hermione nodded, completely confused. "Good, then let's try and have a normal conversation—and be civil with each other."

"Fine."

Draco stared at her.

"You did say conversation, Malfoy—and that usually implies that your mouth has to move and coherent words must come out, forming sentences that then in turn explain what the hell you want."

He didn't say anything.

"This is just a waste of my time."

Draco nodded. "Yes, it is. Now that you know what it's like to be ignored for no reason, we can begin."

"You're being childish."

"So were you." Draco pointed out. "What you did the other day, was, lets just say, completely uncalled for."

"What are you talking about now? We ignored you—grow up. Not everyone is going to wait on you hand and foot your whole life."

"No. I meant you two deliberately baiting me because somehow—I've yet to figure out when, you two made a bet and then did what you did until I lost it."

Shrugging, Hermione looked away. "So? I lost. You don't see me being 'hey, everyone, this is unfair, I should have won' now do you?"

Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Okay. I've got no clue as to what you're talking about…"

Hermione sighed, leaning back. "Just say whatever it is you're going to say, I've got orders to place."

Draco shook his head. "What I said the other day. I meant it."

"Meant what?"

"That I wish you were the one I was marrying."

"I'm not." Hermione pointed out.

"That is one thing I do know."

"So?"

"So…" Draco eyed the door. "Why don't we elope?"

"WHAT?"

"You know what the word means, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Malfoy, that's insane. Elope, are you crazy?"

Draco weighed his options. "Elope or marry a troll." He considered them. "And no, I'm not crazy. We Malfoy's are perfect."

"Perfectly crazy." Hermione mumbled.

"I'll ignore that last comment."

Hermione ran her hand through her hair. "It's not a _real_ marriage."

Draco stood. "That's what you think. But I wouldn't put it pass Pansy to do _something_ to make the whole thing official. Do you know how hard it is to end a marriage in this world?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Let's just say it isn't done often."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But why would you want to…go with me?"

"I thought I told you. Elope or marry a troll."

Hermione shook her head. "No, why me?"

Draco stared. "I thought that was obvious as well."

Hermione shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "I can't deal with this. I've got too much going on."

"I know. So, even though the whole eloping thing is high on my to do list…I just need you to make sure that…Pansy doesn't _actually_ marry me."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"You're the one with the brains."

"That I am."

"Will you help me? She had herself engaged to me without me having any idea about it, and then somehow the school just happens to decide we must _try_ marriage…I really don't want to be truly married. And I trust that you wouldn't want someone to be stuck for life in a predicament that he did not choose." Draco watched Hermione as she thought it over. "No matter how horrible that person has been to you in the past." He added, watching a small smile cross her face.

Sighing Hermione closed her eyes. "Of course not, I have a heart."

"Then please, for the love of Merlin, use it."

"Okay, I'll do my best to make sure your marriage isn't…binding."

"Thank you."

_I've spent my whole life surrounded  
and I've spent my whole life alone  
I wonder why I never wonder why  
The easiest things are so hard  
I just want, I just want love  
I just want something  
Something for nothing  
Something, something for nothing_

_I'm a beggar and I'm a chooser  
I'm accused, I'm an accuser  
But nothing's unconditional_

_I hold the whole world accused  
I've only got myself to blame  
I wonder why; I never wonder why  
The easiest things are so hard_

_I just want, I just want love

* * *

Draco gazed at Hermione as she filled out forms and flipped through the stack of books on her desk._

"Why do you think they didn't pair you with someone—you know, to marry?" He asked.

Hermione paused. "I don't know—haven't thought about it, actually. Why do you ask?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess, to me, it seems kind of malicious. You know, they aren't allowing you to participate—kind of like saying 'oh well, she'll never get married, let's not get her hopes up'."

Hermione looked up, shocked. "Do you really think that?"

Draco didn't say anything.

Standing, Hermione walked away. "You know, that was low, even for you."

"I didn't mean it like that." Draco sighed. "I do think that that is what _they_ were thinking." He sighed. "But, I don't think that it is true."

Hermione faced him, her eyes brimming with tears. "You're just saying that now, so that I won't cry." She wiped a tear off her cheek. "Or kill you."

Draco shrugged. "I've been considering death a lot lately. But, no I do mean it. And crying doesn't bother me. If anything…" He gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

"No." Hermione shook her head—unsure exactly what she was objecting to.

Draco brought her closer; he softly brought his hand to her head, running his fingers through her hair and coaxed her to lay her head on his shoulder.

"See, that doesn't hurt." Draco whispered.

Hermione sniffled. "Yes, yes it does. Caring hurts—it hurts so much."

Draco kissed the top of her head, hugging her close. "You just have to let it happen, Hermione. Liking, caring for someone hurts—yes…but if you let them care for you back…" Draco felt butterflies in his stomach. Not only was he trying to convince her to take a chance…he was also trying to convince himself.

Hermione lifted her head, meeting his eyes. "I don't know what it is I feel."

And she was right—the feelings he had, confused the hell out of him. He didn't know what to do…how to do it…or if he even wanted to do anything. Everything was so damn complicated. Draco brushed his lips against her cheek. "I don't think you're supposed to." He kissed her then, his lips light on hers as he hoped to god this was not a mistake.

Hermione felt the emotions flood over her, her heart…

The loud knocking broke them apart. Hermione jumped, her face reddening.

The looked at each other as the knocking continued.

"Who is it?" Draco called, not yet releasing Hermione.

"Drakie, open this door. I need to talk to you! Drakie?"

Hermione unwound his arms and stepped back. She wouldn't meet his eyes; instead she walked over to the door.

"Please, don't let her in."

Hermione shook her head, wiping the tears from her face. "I have to." She opened the door.

But it wasn't Pansy who stood outside the door. It was Blaise and Ginny.

Draco fell back into a chair as the visitors entered and Hermione closed the door. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"Impersonate Pansy?"

"Yeah, that."

"Oh, well, we were bored. So, we decided to come visit, then on the way up here we ran into a very…befuddled Pansy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Stupid idiot ran into a moving staircase, knocked her out cold."

Ginny giggled. "It looked like she did more than run into a staircase."

Draco shrugged. "So maybe after she was knocked out, I rolled her down a flight of stairs."

"Draco!" Hermione's eyes were wide her mouth open in shock.

"Believe me, she deserved it."

"That is inexcusable behavior, you should be…"

"Proud of myself? Why thank you, I am."

Hermione shook her head.

Ginny and Blaise exchanged looks. "And we were wondering if either of you have seen Ron today at all?" Ginny asked, her smile twitching.

Hermione shook her head. "He was with Harry and Miriam this morning…I haven't seen him since."

Ginny elbowed Blaise in the ribs. "Err…well, it seems—this may not be true—but there's a…a…rumor—that's the word—a rumors going around that Charlotte turned Ron into, uh, well, into a bride, and then…"

"It's a long story." Ginny cut him off. "I'm not sure if it's true or not. I heard it from Miriam, but we haven't been able to find Harry, or Charlotte, or Ron."

"Oh my." Hermione sat down. "This could be bad."

"We also heard tales of a rather large cat that bears a remarkable resemblance to the boy who lived running around the castle." Blaise chuckled.

Draco sat up. "You mean someone turned Potter into a feline?"

"That's the rumor." Ginny nodded, her eye twitching.

"Sweet."

"Draco!"

"Well it is."

"Aren't they cute?" Ginny purred.

Blaise nodded. "Yes, I think so."

"What do you think we should do with them?" Ginny asked.

"What? What are you guys talking about?" Hermione stood, backing away as Ginny stepped closer to her.

"Don't move Hermione, we'd hate to have to cut the fun short by putting you in a body bind."

"Erm, Blaise, is your friend there psychotic?" Draco asked, wearily eyeing Ginny as she pointed her wand at Hermione.

Blaise looked at Draco. "Don't you move either, Draco."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other, mirrored expressions of 'oh shit' on their faces.

"What should we do?" Blaise asked Ginny.

"Well, we turned Harry into a were-cat..."

"And put Ron in a wedding dress…"

"…Made Longbottom give Professor Snape a hug…"

"That was a classic."

"It was you're idea."

"Thank you, I'm brilliant."

"That you are."

Draco stared wide-eyed as the two talked. "You're both insane."

"Be quiet please."

"Then we caught Ms. Danna in Mr. McGale's office…"

"That was fun…I wonder when they'll be back?"

"What did you do?" Hermione asked.

"You be quiet too, please."

"Let's just say that Ms. Danna had a sudden urge to take off running and that somehow Mr. McGale found himself tied with invisible string that was attached to the sprinting Ms. Danna."

"Don't worry, Hermione."

"We put him in a nice protective…"

"And bouncy, bubble."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, now I feel a whole lot better." She said sarcastically.

"So, back to them. What do you think we should do?"

"They are _adorable_ together."

"Something simple maybe?"

"A binding charm?"

"Oh shit." Draco murmured.

"You guys can't be serious? Ginny, come on, we're friends, why are you doing this?"

Ginny smiled, "You have no idea how much fun this is. I've always been more like Fred and George than I let on."

"That's why they put you two together." Hermione realized.

"Yep. She's a smart one, isn't she?" Blaise asked.

"Very." Ginny agreed.

"Can I ask you a question Blaise?"

Blaise shrugged. "Sure."

"Did you do anything to Pansy?"

Blaise smiled.

"She loves to tell stories that…you know, never happened?" Ginny asked. Draco nodded.

"So, well, this probably won't be very good for the two of you, but you should have seen Pansy's face. We told her some…."

"Rather inventive tales about the two of you."

"You didn't!" Hermione shrieked. "There is nothing going on between me and Draco."

"Aww, she called him Draco." Ginny sighed. "It's about time."

"We keep getting off topic Ginny. What should we do with them?"

Hermione cringed, looking over to Draco, who only shrugged.

Draco couldn't meet Hermione's eyes. This might not be so bad…he thought…after all they seemed to think him and Hermione would be good together…and he had to agree with that.

"I've got it!" Ginny proclaimed, Blaise leaned down and she whispered in his ear.

"Good one." They looked up and smiled.

* * *

A cold hand pushed at Hermione. She jerked up. "Ahh!"

"Shh. Don't scream." The hushed voice hissed.

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "Who is that?"

"P—Pansy." Hermione heard the voice sputter.

"How did you get in here?"

Hermione heard a whispered spell and the room was illuminated by a small ball of fire in Pansy's hand. "I got the password from Ms. Danna in case of an emergency, it's an emergency."

Hermione looked up at the tear-streaked face. "What happened?"

Pansy's voice trembled as she began sobbing. "I…I think…DRACO'S CHEATING ON ME!"

"Why do you think that?"

"HE'S IN YOUR BED!"

* * *


	19. Ups and Downs of a Forced Relationship

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Evaluate This!

**Chapter 19**

**The Ups and the Downs of a forced Relationship

* * *

**

"Don't even think it." Hermione hissed as Blaise and Ginny finally stepped back, admiring their work.

Draco tried to roll his stiff shoulders. "Wouldn't think of it."

Ginny giggled. "Aww." She put a few finishing touches on the room and the spells. "This should definitely help you two out a bit."

"Unquestionably." Blaise agreed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "Yippidi-do-da." She tried to distance herself from Draco…but Ginny and Blaise hadn't left much room for…maneuvering.

"Now Hermione, just relax and enjoy!" Ginny gave her friend a final pat on the head.

"Yeah, Draco don't look so tense. We've got everything synchronized, and every half hour a new spell will take affect."

"Mind telling me what those spells are, Blaise?"

Blaise opened his mouth but Ginny stopped him.

"Don't spoil the fun Blaise, they can find out what they are…" Ginny grinned. "Every half hour."

Hermione groaned and rested her head—on Draco's shoulder.

Blaise leaned over to Ginny. "I think it's already working." He whispered—but not softly enough.

Hermione jerked her head up, managing to unbalance the two of them and they both rolled to their sides.

"Thanks a lot." Draco sighed as he stared at the wall. "The view hasn't exactly improved though. Why don't you try it again, maybe then I can look at the ceiling, or possibly the floor."

"Oh shut up!" Hermione cried and jammed her elbow into his back.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"This is your fault!"

Draco tried to turn to face Hermione. "How the hell can you justify any of this to where it is my fault? You're the one who let them _in!_"

Hermione groaned. "Well, you should have stopped me."

Draco laughed, a cold and bitter laugh. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to do."

Ginny and Blaise grinned and slipped silently from the bedroom—they had other people to torture and they were sure that the Heads would be too busy—with other activities—to bother reporting their behavior. And who knew, maybe their next target would be Dumbledore himself…bubblegum in the beard perhaps?

Neither Draco nor Hermione noticed their absence.

"What do you mean you can't force me?"

Draco brushed his hair from his eyes. "It's not complicated Granger, it means exactly that. I can't make you do anything, you're much too stubborn."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Like you've tried!" she screamed.

Draco's mouth gaped open. The entire situation was ludicrous. They were—at the moment—bound together at the waist, facing away from each other…but Draco was positive this was only the beginning.

"How would you know if I've tried or not—you're much too dense to notice!"

Hermione tried to sit up, but Draco stubbornly remained on his side. "I…" she huffed. "Am not dense!"

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes. You are."

"No. I'm not."

"You are too."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!" Draco felt her reach for his shoulder and pinch him. "Oh! Cheap shot. That was a Slytherin move there if I ever saw one!"

"No." Hermione said firmly. "I have nothing in common with Slytherins." Hermione tried to pinch him again.

"You happen to be bound to one right now, and I promise you that if you had no Slytherin qualities before this, you will after." He slapped blindly at her hand. "Don't try that again. I was a gentleman about it the first time but—" He didn't finish as Hermione pinched him again.

"That's it." He reached behind him and found her hair.

"No! Stop." Hermione screeched as he gave a good yank.

"Then stop pinching me." Draco said calmly.

"Fine. And I'm not dense." She pushed her arm against the bed, glad that this time, Draco also helped and they fought their way back up to a seated position. Hermione crossed her arms. Her neck was strained, so she rolled it tiredly.

Draco leaned back trying to stretch his spine. It was hard being bound to a person shorter than yourself. "You are book smart, but Hermione, you are one of the slowest girls I've met."

Hermione huffed. "Like you've met any with brains who fall instantly in love with your good lucks and just have to fuck you."

"Well…"

"Oh my god!" Hermione gaped. "No way."

"Okay, so I will admit that a majority of the _lady_ friends aren't the brightest bunch around."

"You can say that again."

"Hey!" Draco rubbed his eyes. "Don't interrupt, I don't criticize your choices." Though he knew that was a lie. "But though most of them aren't smart, the ones who do have brains at least know and acknowledge the fact that they like me and then do something about it."

"Is this supposed to have a point?"

"Yes. The point is that you like me and you're too dense to realize it."

Hermione remained silent.

"Or maybe you aren't too dense to realize it but…you don't want to be one of those girls who fall at my feet hoping that I'll show some interest."

Hermione laughed haughtily. "Or maybe I find you repulsive, always have and _always_ will."

"I don't believe you."

"Well you'd better believe it, it's the truth."

Draco shook his head, leaning his head back to where his rested against hers. "You're lying."

Hermione closed her eyes. "I'm not."

"Hermione." Draco groaned. "I know you are. You can't lie to me…I know when you are."

"Oh really, care to test that theory?"

Draco wanted anything to prove anything to her. "Have at it."

Hermione thought for a second. What was she trying to prove here? She had been living in the same dormitory for almost half a year already with Malfoy…he knew her habits, her stupid little quirks—he knew more than she liked to admit. Added he was still an asshole, but he seemed to like her. And that was where it ended. There was no way that the evil, sadistic, pureblood Draco Malfoy could actually like her, Hermione Granger. It was against everything.

"My favorite color is red."

Draco laughed, his eyes closing briefly. "No, though it is part of the Gryffindor colors, you like it just fine—but your favorite color is green." The color of Potter's eyes, Draco thought bitterly even though he knew that neither Granger nor Potter had any _romantic_ inklings when it came to each other. That wasn't what pissed him off. It was the time they spent together.

"Okay, so yeah. Well, anyone can know that."

"True." Draco nodded.

They sat in silence, the room growing dark as the sun set outside—casting pools of glowing light onto the floor.

"Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Why—I admit, I don't understand it…why do you have this, this fixation on me?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Truth be known, he didn't know why he did either. He wouldn't say he liked mudbloods; he wouldn't say he liked Gryffindors; he wouldn't say he'd reformed his ways. What he would say was that he liked a certain mudblood, who just happened to be a Gryffindor who he would didn't mind so much. Then there was the fact that Hermione happened to be the exact opposite of Pansy. And the fact that he knew Hermione's secret, he knew why Charlotte was here, and he knew why there was a pendent that hung hidden underneath Hermione's robes—close to her heart.

"Truthfully…"

"Yes?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

Hermione watched the last dying ray of light as it slithered out of the room, casting them in the dim light of dusk.

They both heard the chiming as the hour struck, and felt as the bond binding them together fell away.

Hermione rolled sideways, no longer supported by Draco. "Oh my." She stretched out the aches that had developed. "Remind me to kill Ginny later, okay?"

Draco had stood and now watched Hermione as she stretched. He wasn't all too sorry that they were in this situation. "Yeah, I'll hold her down, you curse."

Hermione laughed and tried to sit up. "Ouch." She rubbed her lower back. "I don't think we're made to sit like that for so long."

"Here, I'll help you up." Draco grabbed her hand—even as Hermione insisted she could do it on her own, trying to push him away. "Okay, okay. Sorry." Draco released her hand.

"Umm…" Hermione shook her hand. "Malfoy let go."

"I did!" Draco looked down at their hands. "Oh crap."

Hermione moaned, "Not this _again!_" she wrenched hard on Draco's hand and he lost his balance sending him toppling onto her.

Hermione tried to move, but it was too late. She shifted slightly and turned her head away from Draco's. "I am going to murder them both." She mumbled.

Draco was in complete and utter shock. "Uh, just so you know. This wasn't my fault. And uh…"

Hermione gritted her teeth against the smile that threatened to erupt. "I know, you can't move."

Draco grinned. "It's only half an hour."

Hermione grimaced. "_Only_ half an hour…well, let me tell you something. You weigh a ton; I'm going to be completely numb or paralyzed in half an hour."

Draco smiled apologetically. "Yeah. Well, we could always try rolling."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure if that would help, or make things worse."

Draco smirked. "Or maybe you're just enjoying this?"

Hermione gaped at him in disbelief. "You don't seriously think that."

He reached his unattached hand up and stroked her face. "Why don't you tell me?"

"I think you are not at all upset with this current—predicament."

Draco laughed. "Right on, ten points to Gryffindor."

"Don't be a smart ass."

"It's in my job description."

Hermione groaned. She was not at all comfortable underneath Draco Malfoy…but she had to admit it felt kind of—she would have smacked herself it were possible—good. She closed her eyes, breathing deep…well as deep as she could under the circumstances, and exhaling slowly before opening her eyes.

Draco was staring at her, an odd expression on his face. There was no telling what was going on behind those silver orbs. Hermione shuddered.

"You cold?"

Hermione cursed herself. "No."

Draco scrutinized her. "Are you sure?" The room was almost completely dark now, but he could sense when she closed her eyes…he could feel her shudder and he could feel her breathing. It was all rather new for him, just feeling these things without sight or prior activities getting in the way.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure." She swallowed self-consciously.

Draco tilted his head from side to side. His one hand was still clasped with Hermione's the other wasn't helping him much…he needed to rest his head. "Er, Hermione…."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind terribly if I rest my head?"

Hermione didn't say anything.

"Granger, you awake?"

Hermione coughed. "Like I could sleep?"

"Please?"

Hermione nodded even though he couldn't see. "Go ahead. We've got a lot of time to just sit here, you might as well get comfortable."

"Lay here."

"What?"

"We're laying here, not sitting."

Hermione laughed. "Thanks for the reminder." Even though she knew she didn't need any more of a reminder than the fact that Draco freaking Malfoy's cheek was pressed against hers and his body covered hers as well. If any one of her friends were to walk in…oh she would never live down the embarrassment.

The sudden rush of mixed feelings made Hermione nauseous. If someone did find them, they'd be able to help—if the finding party was up to helping them that is…but also, if someone found them it would all end. It would all end.

End…Hermione bit her bottom lip…

Draco shifted, again, trying hard not to let his body rest too closely on Hermione's. He could feel her soft skin against his and it was driving him crazy.

"Why don't we see if we can figure out what we can and can not do?" Hermione said finally, breaking the silence.

Draco nodded, shifting again. "Sounds good."

Hermione tentatively moved her hand that was clasped in Draco's. She could move it, she found, but…

"It's like a magnet." Draco said softly. "We can pull apart a ways, but we're going to be pulled back together eventually."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I guess I have to give it to them—they sure know their spells."

Draco moved his hand up her arm. "That better?"

Hermione flexed her fingers. "Yeah. Thanks."

Draco shook his head, laughter playing over his face. "Oh, no problem."

Hermione sighed and faintly felt her hand as it moved to Draco's waist. "This is rather…um, yeah." She coughed.

"Yeah, um, well, at least we're clothed, right?"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Yeah!" then she sudden felt dread fill her. "You don't think they'd do anything…like…like that?"

Draco didn't know. He was too preoccupied with the fact that Hermione's hand was moving across his back and side in a way that he knew it was her nerves, the need to move—yet it was making him severely rethink all the decisions and thoughts and feelings he'd ever had.

"Granger?" Draco sighed, "Could you stop…please stop." He gritted his teeth. He'd wanted nothing more than to be this close to her for ages…but…

Hermione stopped her hand and blushed with embarrassment. "Sorry." She mumbled. "I didn't realize."

"I know." Draco said stiffly.

"Sorry." Hermione apologized again.

Draco wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. There was no way he could do this any longer without…seriously regretting his actions.

Hermione felt as Draco tried to distance himself from her—a hard task.

"You don't have to do that." She whispered.

"What?"

"You don't have to move."

"Yes, I do."

Hermione ran her hand up his back until she found his face. Tracing the line of his jaw she felt him still. "Just…don't move."

Draco allowed himself to relax by degrees, in case she changed her mind. "I really wish you knew what was going through my head."

Hermione laughed. "I'm not that dense." She ran her fingers over his lips and to her surprise they were trembling.

Draco leaned his forehead against hers.

He didn't know what happened next as his brain froze…Hermione lifting her lips to his, running her tongue against his lower lip—experimenting. She ran her hand through his hair and pulled away.

He couldn't hear what she mumbled but he knew it ended with 'sorry'. And then the clock chimed.

You've got me tethered and chained  
I hear your name  
And I'm falling over  
I'm not like all the other girls  
I can't take it like the other girls  
I won't share it like the other girls  
That you used to know  
You're taking me over  
Over and over  
I'm falling over  
Over and over  
You're taking me over  
Drown in me one more time  
Hide inside me tonight  
Do what you want to do  
Just pretend happy end  
Let me know let it show  
Ending with letting go  
Let's pretend, happy end

* * *

Ginny peeked her head into the room—it was dark. Damn, she thought, that can't be very interesting. She placed the tray containing two mugs of hot chocolate on the floor and with a flick of her wand, sent it to the table in the corner, another flick and the lights turned on, she caught a glimpse of Hermione and Draco and smiled, leaving as quietly as she'd come.

Blaise was outside the Heads dorm, waiting, keeping guard. Ginny came out and he smiled. "How's it going in there?"

Ginny grinned. "I left them their _refreshments_…laced with?"

Blaise held up the two vials he'd taken from Snape's private stores.

"Let me see, I put this one in the one cup. Veritasirum. And the second one…" he grinned evilly. "A very potent and highly entertaining dose of liar."

Ginny clapped her hands together. "You are the best."

Blaise looked dreamily at the ceiling. "Oh, Draco is never going to forgive me."

Shaking her head, Ginny took his hand. "He'll be begging you to help him after tonight. Those two are going to be so conjoined…"

"Are you sure you put it together right?"

"Positive."

* * *

"Ron!" Charlotte moved slowly through the wing. She had no idea where she was; all she knew was that she saw the veiled red head come this way. "Shit. Come on Ron! Where are you?"

"I'm in a wedding dress!" Ron screamed from ahead of her.

Stupid idiot. Charlotte lighted the torches as she walked. "Well, I'm in a tux, big deal. Just stop running."

Ron groaned. "I can't take it off!" he moaned.

"Well, maybe if you held still long enough…"

"I'm going to _kill_ Ginny!"

Charlotte turned the corner and was glad that Ron had sat. "Finally." She leaned against the wall, catching her breath. "Kill your sister I don't care, just for the sake of Ra, don't take off again."

Ron nodded. "I can't run anymore." He tugged on the zipper to the dress. "I can't get out." He cried out in defeat, looking up at Charlotte. "Well, come on, insult me."

Charlotte smiled…an actual, full blown, not kidding, smile.

"Wow." Ron whispered.

"What?"

"You smiled."

Charlotte shrugged. "It comes and goes." She held out her hand. "Come on. Hermione can help us.

Ron took her hand and grinned. "You know, you don't look half bad in a tux."

Charlotte punched him in the shoulder.

"Ouch."

"Too bad."

"It was a compliment."

"Yeah, a compliment that was actually a cover up for an insult."

Ron shrugged. "Yep."

Charlotte grinned. "Come on, let's go."

"And if we run into Ginny and Blaise?"

Charlotte paused and a sickly sweet look crossed her features. "Then we'll give them a taste of their own medicine."

Ron chuckled. "Awesome."

* * *

Miriam coughed, sputtering as she stood. Harry was beside her, curled up in a ball—purring.

"PURRING!" Miriam shook her head. Hell no, this was not happening. "Wake up!" she shoved at the sleeping cat, err, human, whatever.

Harry stopped purring and stretched, his tail flicking. "Meow?"

Miriam sat back. "Oh no. Oh no."

Confusion echoed in Harry's eyes. "Merow?" He licked his paw as he eyed Miriam with his bright green eyes, rubbing his paw over his ear. "Meow, meow, merow?"

Miriam grimaced. "Uh…Harry?"

The cat looked up at her with an expression that clearly said 'what the hell do you want, I'm busy you stupid human'.

Miriam bit her lip. "I think, I think I'll go find…someone." And she took off.

The cat continued to wash behind his ear, glad that the human had finally taken the hint and gone, he curled back up and fell asleep.

* * *

Draco felt the magnetic force loosen and he rolled off Hermione who sighed. "What's next, do you think?"

"We'll probably end up hanging from the rafters."

Hermione suddenly felt parched. "Oh god, if I don't drink something I'm going to die."

Draco tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. "I need some hot chocolate." He could smell it now and turned his eyes to the corner. "Look, drinks."

Hermione looked at them curiously, her brain trying to tell her something, but her thirst overpowered her. "Hand me one would you?"

Draco picked up the cups of hot chocolate, handing one to Hermione. He took a very long drink of the hot liquid.

Hermione sipped hers, unsure if it would parch her thirst. "Wow. This is pretty good."

"What are you talking about?" Draco dropped the cup. "It tastes like dirt!"

Draco shook his head, feeling woozy.

Hermione suddenly dissolved into giggles. "Oh my god." She cried as she fell to her knees, tears forming in her eyes.

"What?" Draco glanced around the room. "Do I have something on me?" He turned a tight circle.

"You have a spider the size of a galleon on your shoulder." Hermione said, her giggles subsiding.

"GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!" Draco shouted, running frantically around the room.

Hermione laughed hard, as she watched the freaking out Slytherin.

Draco couldn't see the spider and he stopped running. "There is no spider."

"Yes, there is!" Hermione insisted. "Its big and black and as ugly as you." she stated seriously.

Draco backed against the wall. "I am not ugly."

"Yes, you most definitely are." Hermione nodded.

Draco's mouth dropped open. "Why would you say that?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's the truth."

"No. I know that I'm not ugly."

"You are."

Draco shook his head. He looked down at the cup, then his mind did a fast circle. "Shit." He murmured, running his hand through his hair. "They put something in the drinks." And that was why it had tasted so bad…but Hermione had said it was good. Draco studied her for a second—it didn't seem as though she'd caught onto the fact that she'd drank some sort of potion. Dense indeed, the thought made him smile.

"The hot chocolate was the worst I've ever had." Draco watched as Hermione turned, facing him.

"No. It was the best I've ever tasted."

"You're favorite color is green."

"No, it's not. My favorite color is blue."

Draco smirked—her hot chocolate had been laced with a potion for compulsive lying. But what had his been laced with. His mind ran over the things he knew. Blaise had a severe addiction to certain things…the truth being one of them.

"Ask me if a question."

Hermione crossed her arms. "And if I don't want to?"

"You _do_ want to."

Hermione shook her head, smiling smugly. "No I don't."

Draco hung his head, resigned. "No, you don't." he said and was happy with the results.

"Yes I do." Hermione said. "You can't tell me what I do and do not want, who do you think you are. I want to ask you questions and I sure as hell am going to."

Draco didn't say anything as Hermione sat down on the bed.

"What's your favorite color?" Hermione finally asked, looking rather proud of herself.

Draco tried to think red, red, that's what he would say. "Black." Damn, Draco thought. Vertiasirum, thanks a lot Blaise.

* * *

Ginny and Blaise were crouched low, hidden in the shadows.

"What do you think Malfoy and Hermione are doing right now?" Ginny asked as she waited patiently for their next victim.

Blaise shrugged. "Probably cursing our very existence."

Ginny grinned. "Yeah. What time is it?"

Glancing at his watch, Blaise said. "A little after eight thirty."

Hunkering down further in the shadows Ginny smirked. "Well, if they're pissed now, they've got a surprise coming at nine o'clock that will have them ready to commit murder."

Blaise nodded but ducked down again. "I think I hear someone coming." He whispered. They both pulled out their wands.

And waited.

Miriam ran past and they shot out of their hiding spots.

"Ahh!" Miriam stopped. "You scared me, you stupid idiots." She huffed.

Ginny lowered her wand. "Well, sorry, we thought someone was coming around who we could actually curse."

"Disappointed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"By the way, I think that Harry is—well, he's turned into more of a cat than you, uh, predicted."

Ginny looked up. "What do you mean?"

Miriam spelled it out for the slow Gryffindor. "Harry Potter is a very big, black, cat who doesn't know he was a human."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Where is he?"

"Where you two left him."

Blaise looked over to Ginny. "Okay, we'll take the spell off him."

"Thanks."

They parted ways, Ginny and Blaise off to return Harry to his human form and Miriam—to who knows where.

* * *

Ron and Charlotte sneaked a peak around the now empty hallway.

"Guess where we're going?" Charlotte murmured.

Ron smiled…this was going to be fun.

They turned and slowly ran after Blaise and Ginny—an odd scene. A girl dressed in a tux with long blond hair and a boy with a shot of red hair in a puffy wedding gown.

And then they were gone.

* * *

The clock chimed nine and Hermione finally could take control of her head again.

Draco was face down on her bed, apparently asleep. Hermione didn't know how long it had been since they had decided that the best thing to do was not talk at all, but it was finally over.

"Wake up Malfoy." Hermione pulled the pillow out from beneath his head.

"Thanks a lot."

"No problem."

Draco sat up and yawned. "Why did you wake me?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it's the start of a new dose of torture, I thought you should be…be…"

Draco watched as Hermione swayed sideways, but remained standing—her eyes unfocused.

"Are you okay?" He got up and reached out to steady her.

His hand touched the skin of her arm and abruptly, the world spun out of control.

Hermione opened her eyes. "AHHHHHH!"

Draco shook his head and looked up. "AHHHHHH!"

They both looked at each other…at themselves.

"No way." Draco whispered in Hermione's voice.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Hermione muttered.

"They did a body switch on us." Draco ran his hand through his hair…through Hermione's hair. "Um, yeah, Hermione, did you ever think about using a softener on your hair?"

Hermione glared back and for the first time, Draco was on the receiving end of one of his icy stares…and that scared him.

"Please don't do that." He turned away from himself.

Hermione smirked. "What? Don't like a little taste of your own medicine?

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but closed it. Two could play this game.

* * *

Pansy woke cold on the ground, her whole body ached, and her mind seethed. "Drakie!" she cried out. There was no way that her fiancé was going to do anything with that mudblood. She stormed up the stairs, glad now that she had the password to the Heads dorm room.

The windows were open; the moonlight came streaming in. Too bright, Pansy shielded her eyes.

The common room was empty Pansy observed, and no sound was coming from either room. She went to Draco's peeking her head in. His bed was empty. Anger seethed through her.

She entered Hermione's room. And it was not empty.

* * *

A/N: Yay! i have finally finished editing...whew...now i can actually write a new chapter!


	20. Two Weeks from Thursday

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Evaluate This

**Chapter 20**

**Two Weeks From Thursday

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**A/N:** The next time I tell you guys that I want to redo this story STOP ME! I am never doing that again. Let alone I haven't updated since December, I didn't do hardly any editing until just this weekend—where I became an editing hurricane—and then I wrote this load of crap. So forgive me, and don't be too harsh.

**A/N2:** You guy's might want to reread the whole thing when you have a chance. Not much has changed, but a few things have.

**Whisper to me:** Hello there, the entire time you were sending me reviews; I was finishing up this horrid chapter! I can say that they were very nice. I do love reviews. You are correct about Miriam, the whole pendant thing will be explained in time, and you are also quite right to remember that there used to be more chapters. I was an idiot, and decided to re-edit everything…I'm such an idiot! Anyway. There used to be 22 chapters, now there are 20. I am fairly more happy with the story as a whole, except the last three chapters (including this one) which have gone absolutely nowhere…but I'm pretty sure it will start moving once more soon enough. Thank you for all the lovely reviews!

**A note to those of you who do not log in and do not leave me your email addresses and ask questions pertaining to the story:** Please, if you are going to ask questions, leave me some way to contact you with the answers…I'd would really rather keep this story on fanfic, and you never know when someone will hit that button and get me kicked off…for something as small as replying to reviewers…so for the love of everything, leave me some way to contact you. Thanks a bunch!

**To my BETA:** It's been sooooo long. I hope you don't mind I've just posted the chapter without sending it to you. Next time. Oh, and Happy VERY VERY VERY VERY belated birthday.

**Recap:** Basically, Blaise and Ginny have been causing havoc for the last three blasted chapters! And that's about it. I can not wait to move on.

* * *

Pansy's eyes were wide, her face pale—and her hands kept making a wringing motion, as if there were a towel possessed between the two that she was determined to wring dry—or a neck she hoped to wring of life.

Hermione tried her best to scramble up, but the sheets of her bed were so thoroughly tangled about her legs that the idea of standing was soon put out of her mind. Instead, she shook her head once, twice, trying to clear it. What the heck was going on?

The Slytherin girl's lips was trembling slightly, and it looked as if there were tears welling in her wide eyes. Hermione squinted, trying to see if they were indeed tears—while another part of her brain tried to sort through the words the girl had screamed, causing Hermione's abrupt ascent into the waking world. But for the life of her, it was only a jumbled garble of words that made no sense. Rubbing a tired hand across her eyes, Hermione reached for the lamp on her bedside table, only to be brought up short by Pansy's shaking hand.

"No. Keep it off. Don't wake." The girl sounded calm, even though Hermione could feel her trembling. She couldn't blame her. It was cold…

Shivering, Hermione tucked her hand back under the warm covers. "I'm already awake. What do you need?" She whispered.

The light in the room was barely enough, but Hermione saw Pansy blink, and the confusion on her face.

"You…" Pansy began, her finger pointing behind Hermione. "You…"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concerned and not yet fully awake.

"I…" Pansy was shaking her head, blinking, and her hands continued their strange wringing motions.

"I forgot my knitting!" She exclaimed suddenly, causing Hermione to jump.

"Knitting?" she asked delicately, wondering if she were indeed awake or just caught in some bizarre dream.

"I left the knitting…I left…I…" Pansy was now fumbling around Hermione's room—hopefully, Hermione thought, looking for the door. She made a pathetic attempt to untangle the sheets from her legs—intent on leading the girl by the hand all the way out. But she gave up as Pansy made it to the door, mumbling still about knitting.

"I have to get back…"

Hermione stared as she turned, and ran into the wall. A small thud resounded through the moonlit room. And then there was Pansy again, walking like a drunk past the open door once more.

"Kitting is in the basket…"

Hermione heard the portrait open and close. Slowly, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and fell back her head bouncing softly off the pillow.

Why couldn't she catch hold of any of her thoughts? What was it that Pansy had screamed? Why couldn't she just _think_?

She watched the rippling shadows across the ceiling—the wind outside tossed branches, and the clouds were whipped across the moon. She must have put herself to bed…but…why did she have an odd feeling that something was wrong? She lay there, motionless, trying to catch her wayward thoughts.

She remembered Ginny…

Ginny pointing her wand at her…

Harry was a cat?

Ron was in a dress?

Mr. McGale was bouncing around like a gerbil in a ball?

And her and Malfoy were…

Hermione let out a muffled shriek of shock as a warm arm wrapped itself around her stomach, pulling her closer to an even warmer body. She could feel her heart as it pounded, and the buzz of adrenaline as she tried—rather unsuccessfully—to calm herself.

And her and Malfoy were most definitely sleeping together…in _her_ bed.

* * *

Harry growled, his hair rising as the two humans approached. He knew better than to trust them—even if he couldn't remember the reasons why.

"Come here kitty kitty…"

That black haired boy was going to get his skin shredded if he dared call him _kitty kitty_ one more time, Harry thought as he bared his teeth.

"Blaise, just pet him or…or something…"

Pet me and die, Harry thought, now turning his brilliant green eyes on the red head—I'll bite you, I swear I will, Harry thought menacingly, this time showing both teeth and claw as he batted at the advancing humans.

"He doesn't look _friendly_ Ginny." Blaise murmured, wand pointed at the human sized feline.

"Oh for Merlin's sake—it's Harry Potter, Blaise, he isn't going to maul you!"

Blaise eyed the large kitten. "I don't think he knows he was Harry Potter anymore." He ducked as a paw that was once a human hand made a swipe at his head—claws sharp and gleaming. Blaise took seven steps back, until his back was up against a wall.

Take that you fool! Harry thought triumphantly.

"For goodness sakes, Ginny, just find the reversal spell. No matter what you say—I think Harry _is_ very capable of mauling me!" Blaise squealed.

Ginny flipped through the book of spells, searching…searching…she heard another growl and looked up in time to see Harry lunge at Blaise, and to see the very scared Slytherin leap over the couch that Harry had been sleeping on.

"Maybe he just wants to play?"

"Are you crazy!" Blaise screamed. "He does_ not_ want to play!" Scrambling under a table Blaise raced towards Ginny, taking her by the shoulders as he used her for a human shield. "He wants to _kill_ me!"

The 'he' in question was now seated before them, his tail flicking back and forth and his ears lowered in aggravation.

"Good kitty." Ginny said in a very, very small voice. Blaise grabbed the spell book from her hands and began to flip through it as Harry growled once more, scrunching down to the floor in what was nothing less than the position one took before a pounce.

"Hurry please."

"This is _your _fault." Blaise muttered, flipping the pages rapidly. Do you want to grow whiskers? No, Harry already had them; do you want to be a Calico? Nope. Spells to counteract…Blaise paused, running his finger down the index. "Here!" He handed the book back to Ginny. "Turn him human…please!" And fast, Blaise thought.

A flick of a wand later and a very irate Harry Potter was glowering at the two shaking students.

Harry glanced at his paws…no, he corrected, hands. He grinned slightly. He had hands! Getting up he stretched, all his muscles were bunched and tense. He felt as though he'd done acrobatic tricks—a whole lot of leaping and rolling—that he was sure he was not capable of. Eyes narrowing, Harry turned his attention to Blaise and Ginny, he might not be very acrobatic as a human, but as a cat…they were going to die. Slow, painful, never-ending death!

Ginny gave him a sheepish grin, her voice trembling as she took a tentative step forward. "Harry?"

Harry glared at Ron's sister. But before he could open his mouth to curse her, or the boy hiding behind her, he heard something that might have been the scream of a banshee.

"Get 'em!"

"Hold them down!"

"Don't let them get away!"

A jumble of puffy dress and tux, of red hair and blond attacked, smashing Ginny and Blaise into the ground.

"Geroffron!"

Harry, stunned, looked down as the fighting ended, leaving a very smothered Ginny and Blaise pinned to the floor. Pinned by none other than Ron and Charlotte…who were…

Wearing wedding clothes?

Harry shook his head. What had been going on?

* * *

Hermione was trying hard to wake the sleeping Slytherin—which was turning out to be quite a chore. He was very much a deep sleeper.

The softly calling his name—bother Malfoy and Draco—had been unsuccessful.

Pinching his skin had also gone unnoticed.

She was too lazy to fetch ice water…

But he wouldn't be sleeping much longer—in the blissful realm of dreams—if she could help it.

He was going to wake.

Right.

Now.

So help her, Hermione thought as she pulled the sleeves of her shirt to her elbows, he was going to get his lazy ass up and out of her bed!

Hermione unwrapped the arm that held her possessively, and using all the strength she could muster, she shoved hard, rolling the sleeping boy away from her, over the edge, and off the bed.

He fell with a crash. An instant later came a startled cry.

Well, he's awake now; Hermione thought with satisfaction—she didn't stop the smirk that spread over her lips. Slowly, she snaked her way over the bed to peer down at the fallen boy—she was sure to be witnessing the Malfoy's least composed moment to date.

Too bad she didn't think of the consequences of shoving said Malfoy off the bed—she'd have been less worried about witnessing him in distress and more worried about joining a witness relocation program.

But of course, it was not yet morning, and her brains weren't all where they should be—so she peered, rather unprotected, at the boy on the floor.

His hair sprawled over the carpet—a mess of silver-blond that shined in the moonlight, his arms were spread wide in an un-poetic attempt to break his fall—too late, and his eyes were clouded by sleep and unfocused.

Hermione felt a short pang of sorrow—what she'd done was awfully cruel…but it was only a passing sentiment and was gone sooner than it had come.

Draco's dreamy gray eyes blinked thoughtfully, the pale skin covering the haunting orbs, before fluttering open, more focused—harder. Hermione tried hard not to giggle. It didn't take the blond long before his beautiful eyes found Hermione's peering ones. She quickly found herself locked in a battle of the glares. He was most definitely pissed.

But who could blame the poor, sweet-natured, adorable Slytherin? Hermione tried hard not to laugh—Draco was not poor, far from it and he'd be the first to tell you, he was most certainly not sweet-natured—that was her, thank you very much—but she had to admit, he was awfully adorable. Even now, as he shot her his patented 'die and go to hell' glare.

Unable to control herself—Hermione broke eye contact, laying back down on the bed, stretching out to claim the whole thing for herself. It was hers after all—and Malfoy had no right to be sharing it with her.

She heard the distinct sounds of Draco getting up—it seemed the Slytherin was having quite a difficult time, if the sounds of his ascent were any indication. But a few moments later, Hermione saw the blond boy rise to his feet. He was just standing there—glaring.

Was she supposed to feel sorry?

Say sorry?

Was she supposed to let her Gryffindor goodness shine through and apologize?

I think not, Hermione thought decisively—she'd obviously been hanging around the Slytherin far too long.

"Don't you have _anything_ to say to me?" Draco asked, his voice haughty and irritated—who in their right mind would be otherwise?

"Oh, come off it." She moaned, and turned to her side so that she no longer had to look at him. It would be several more hours before the sun would rise, and Hermione had every intention of going back to sleep—now that _her _bed was back in _her_ complete and utter possession. He could just go to his room and sleep, she decided as she closed her eyes.

But Draco had other ideas.

"You have the audacity to push _me_ out of bed, and then think that I'll let you go back to sleep?" Draco smoothed back his hair, before situating himself beside Hermione's turned back. "Well, Granger, I hope you don't have any plans of sleeping—because I can assure you, you won't be getting any!"

Hermione didn't say anything.

Draco gave her shoulder an annoyed shove. "Are you listening to me?"

Hermione stifled a laugh, keeping her breathing deep and even.

"Granger…" Draco prodded her. "I won't let you sleep!" Still no answer came, the girl was… "Granger! Stop ignoring me! I know you're awake, you are not that great an actress."

This time, Hermione couldn't help the laughter.

Draco scoffed. She was laughing at him. "Merlin! You give me a headache." Or possibly, it was from lack of sleep—but he'd rather blame Granger. His fingers gently rubbed his forehead as he felt Hermione shift so that she was lying on her back, looking up at him with laughing eyes.

"Poor baby, should I kiss it and make it all better?" Hermione joked.

However, Draco thought it was a rather grand idea. "Actually, Granger, I'd like that very much." And watched the smile slide off her face, Draco smirked—served her right. After all, he'd been sleeping so nicely—until he'd met up with that cruel, hard surface some people called a floor—and…

What exactly was he doing sleeping in Granger's room, in Granger's bed, in the first place? "What am I doing in here?"

Hermione blinked, then glanced up at the confused boy. "I…don't quite remember why."

Draco took in what little he could see in the moonlight. The bed was a mess—and he could tell that Hermione was impossibly tangled in the sheets. Her hair was wild from sleep, and her eyes soft. He almost didn't care that he couldn't remember…

Almost.

He might have been content with not knowing—had he still been asleep—however, she'd woken him…

Or the floor had, it depended on the way you viewed things—but Draco really didn't feel like cursing an inanimate object. Granger would do just fine.

Hermione could see the gleam in his eyes, and she'd learned by now that that was the gleam one needed to run for cover from. Instead of running however—she offered a small, shy, grin, hoping to appease the Slytherin.

"Don't you want to know why I pushed you out?"

"I'd think you'd do it, as no more than a fleeting thought, a moment of amusement at my distress." Draco replied icily.

"Oh really?" Hermione couldn't help but sound cynical. "And I'm the one known for doing cruel things for a moments amusement—of the two of us—eh?"

Draco grumbled. "I've had quite a bad influence on you." He felt his fatigue returning and he just couldn't help but let it go, he'd make her pay—some other day.

Even as he felt sleep tug at his eyes, Draco fought it, trying to at least settle one thing while he was awake.

When did remembering become such a chore?

He'd been dreaming at some point, he'd been seeing things from Hermione's perspective—almost as if…

Draco's eyes widened a fraction. "The body-switch!" He glanced at Hermione who was watching him intently "You don't remember anything?"

Hermione frowned—she did remember, a few things, that she would much rather forget. She'd much rather just observe Draco, as she'd been doing until he'd started talking. "I remember being…in your body…and I think…I think I remember you being…" her eyes narrowed. "Rather touchy with my own." She finished, her voice reaching a dangerous low.

Oh yeah…Draco thought, he vaguely remembered doing that—to simply piss her off. She'd glared at him, and used his own smirk against him. He'd felt compelled to make her feel the effects of her _charms_ as well.

He had to admit though, that the whole experience had been very enlightening. He'd been able to see those few hairs that drove him insane—refusing to lie in place—and he'd dealt with them accordingly. He'd also been rather happy that Hermione had to suffer that pain and not himself.

And then…

She'd kissed him…her…he kissed him…Draco shook his head. Hermione, in his body had kissed him, in her body.

That had been…different. Amazingly so, he'd never before been on the receiving end of his kiss.

"You kissed me." Draco said softly, as he leaned over Hermione. She had the decency to blush, and in the moonlight, she was beautiful.

"Yeah…I think I did." Hermione murmured softly.

Draco smiled.

* * *

"Stop!"…Bounce…bounce... "Running!"…Bounce… "You Stupid!"…Bounce…bounce… "Woman!" Mr. McGale shouted as he rebounded into the wall and hit the floor, flying towards the ceiling. "Stop running for the!" …Bounce… "Love of Merlin!" He cried, holding the urge to wretch. When he got hold of those meddlesome kids…

He felt himself go green. Oh, those kids were going to pay! As soon as he could get Ms. Danna to stop this insane running—he was going to make sure they paid.

* * *

A few hours later…

* * *

"I'm so sorry Horace!"

"It isn't your fault Maggie." Mr. McGale assured the woman as he held the ever-lasting cold pack to his bruised cheek. "And I apologize for calling you stupid."

"You are forgiven. If only I'd had my wand." Ms. Danna growled, her legs were stiff and sore. Her lungs burned and her hair had fallen out of its tight bun and refused to be put back—that was the final straw—she could deal with the aches and pains, but her hair…that she could not. "Those fake marriage licenses, where did you put them?"

Mr. McGale took the ice pack away from his face, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Why my dear Ms. Danna, I do believe that I left them on my desk—right over there."

She grinned—if you could call it a grin—and walked over to the stack.

"Two weeks from Thursday, Ms. Danna." Mr. McGale said soothingly as he watched her shuffle through the stack of papers.

"Two weeks from Thursday, Mr. McGale."

"All hell will break loose."

"Won't Fudge be proud?"

"That he will."

Ms. Danna found the license she was looking for. "That he very much will."

* * *

A/N: Please tell me what you think. I promise you will not have to wait another four months for an update!


	21. Back to Neverland

* * *

**Evaluate This**

**Chapter 21**

**Back to Neverland**

* * *

Cornelius Fudge was a patient man they said. But truth is sometimes blinded by what _they said_. As it were, Cornelius was not a patient man at all. He appeared patient. Just as he appeared patient, Fudge appeared caring and above all else, harmless—not a wicked bone in his body. How well could one fool the entire wizarding world you ask? Just take a quick look at the _real_ Minister of Magic, a man so evil, that hell itself spat him back out (yes, even the wizarding world adores Johnny), and you can see just how well deception can be played.

It was quite evident, now by the paper held in their hands that their dear Minister was quite a dark and conniving old fellow—one not to be trifled with by those considered sane. The two soon-to-be-caught miscreants, however, would most likely contest that they were not _sane_ and quite happily not so.

After all, Fudge _must_ remember that his entire reason for ordering the evaluations (which by any other name, determine your sanity—and if you are found to be sane, however unlikely that may be, you are soon to be acquainted with the world of insanity in short time) was to prove once and for all that the entire world was not in its right mind—and thus prove that Harry Potter and his followers were more than deserving of a padded room and thorizine drip.

Blaise knew tact when he saw it—admired it when it came from an admirable source—but he also liked to exploit…

And exploit he did.

Fudge was a conniving little bastard, Blaise concluded after not much thought. Much like Dumbledore, he mused, without the damnable twinkle. But of course, there were more differences between the two old biddies. And biddies they definitely were—Blaise would argue that point fiercely, even if the two _were_ men, they were as annoying and interfering and conniving as a bunch of meddling grandmothers.

He cringed—his own grandmother would probably work hand in hand with the two, she loved nothing more than to screw with someone's life (and by screw up, he meant help), and that life usually turned out to be his. She'd affectionately called him an ungrateful little sod more than once—never really meaning her words, their spats more love than anything particularly nearing vile. Don't get him wrong, Blaise and his Grandmother got along about as well as Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. But it was with love, rather than hatred, with which they conducted their little charades.

A small squeak brought him back into the study, letter still between his lax fingers. His eyes roamed over it once more.

Merlin, did he have no respect for the Minister of Magic! Prying into the man's personal correspondences with the psychiatrists.

Obviously not.

In not so many words, the letter spelled out a rather unorthodox method of conducting one's business…

That business was going to be rather unpleasant for the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Let alone it being downright cruel—even Blaise would admit that—it was damn unhealthy too! How could he possibly cope in such a stress filled environment?

A cruel smile played on his lips, even as he tried to keep it at bay—fruitless effort that was.

He was mentally figuring how many years worth of allowance it would take to hire his own professional team of psychiatrists—with the intent of setting them on one Cornelius Fudge. Blaise was quite sure the man had lost his marbles…let alone ethics, morals, and basic humanity.

"What are you grinning such a feral grin about?"

Blaise glanced up, meeting Ginny's eyes with his own—knowing that the sadistic, feral gleam that was in his eyes (let alone on his face) was mirrored perfectly in her own. Two peas in a pod, them. He couldn't remember where he heard it—though he was sure it had been said more as a curse than compliment—but it fit.

"I was just admiring this here handiwork." He nodded at the parchment, and felt rather than saw Ginny sidle up next to him—a brief whisper of air, a touch of skin.

He shifted minutely, so that she could better read, the only light emitting from the end of their wands.

The flowing script itself told of the writer's devious intent. The curls and tails of the letters were sharp, where the quill had pressed hard—as if the writer's sanity was to question, and if that were to be questioned, you'd have to take in the context of the letter and question the individuals sadistic persona. All of which was conveniently hid away by the calm, composed, loving, caring, harmless exterior (all of course pre-packaged) that was Cornelius Fudge.

And they'd thought the psychiatrists were two in a million—Ginny reassessed that now, coming to the conclusion that there _were_ many sick people in the world and trumped the number up to four. You couldn't leave out you-know-who, he'd cemented a place in that category years ago, but now you had to expand the occupancy of that list.

Now you might be thinking she should be including herself as well as the Zabini spawn…but Ginny liked to think that they were more—creatively demented—not raging sadist.

She finished the letter, taking in the Minister's signature—an overly large flourish that in no way imaginable could be made out to say Cornelius Fudge.

Their eyes gleamed in the wand-light, so feral and full of planning—you could practically see the clicking and turning of the wheels that operated their minds.

It was obvious, by way of the ripped envelope, that the psychiatrists had already gotten their orders.

It was a true pity that they were too stupid to deal with the letter properly—hadn't they taken _Covering Your Ass 101_? Blaise was rather disappointed in them, they should have burned it upon finishing, so no further eyes would read.

But…Blaise decided with a faint hint of his cocky grin, they'd had other things to deal with, courtesy of himself and Ms. Weasley.

And now, they would do what the psychiatrists should have done the moment they'd finished with the letter. Why exactly, you ask? Because playing with fire is damn fun.

"Permission to incinerate, Mr. Zabini?" Ginny's low tone brought chills down Blaise's arms—the girl could be scary. She pointed her wand, the tip not quite touching paper and waited for his nod.

They watched the letter as it was slowly burned into nothingness. The ashes floated lazily in the air, the ends still crinkling and withering away in a ribbon of fire-orange.

Blaise almost mewed in happiness. Instead, he gave into his body's urge to do something incredibly childish and stupid and pointless and…whatever, he just did it.

This particular insane urge happened to be to attack something like a barracuda (not that he had any idea how a barracuda attacked) Blaise made an insane karate kick and half chop at the desk, earning himself an exasperated sigh that all but said 'why the hell am I still hanging with this loser' from Ginny—as well as an aching foot.

Ginger hair was swept into a ponytail, revealing Ginny's sneer, previously hidden. Her words oozed sarcasm. "I'm sure you taught that desk a lesson. Hurt its feelings you did." Blaise was pretty sure he could coat layers with the sweet jam that was her sarcasm—he was also beginning to feel slightly nauseous at his current turn of thought.

Impatient, Ginny snapped her fingers once, twice—gaining the attention of a slightly green Slytherin. "Can we go now, or do you want to give the desk another first-rate swat for good measure?"

Blaise bared his teeth.

"Oh like you scare me. I bite back you know."

Blaise cringed. "I give, come on, lets go."

They hadn't much time left before the beginning of breakfast—to which they would show, holding heads high—and reap the consequences of their actions.

They might even try to look remorseful…

Blaise and Ginny caught the others eye—thoughts perfectly aligned and crude grins in place.

Remorseful?

Nah. (I think not.)

* * *

His hair was in need of a trim, Draco decided, as he lay sprawled on his bed, fingers meticulously combing through his baby-fine strands. He closed his eyes, letting only the feeling of silk strands seep into his senses. It felt _good_. He loved his hair; he loved hands in his hair. There was something pleasant and…erotic about having one's hair twirled and pulled and petted. The strands dropped lightly onto his pale forehead.

He was trying to forget about the previous nights escapades—trying to reestablish calm, and his endearing Malfoy demeanor. It was all done in vain, as there was nothing short of an _Oblivious!_ or death that could remove those…memories. He'd yet to decide if they were good or bad—they had marks in both categories. But in short, it was a disaster.

His body had betrayed him in such a way he wasn't sure forgiveness would ever be possible, and to make matters worse—his treacherous body was _still_…feeling. And he didn't like this one bit, not one fucking bit. There was a tightness in his stomach, as if he'd done sit-ups (which of course he never did, he was natural perfect with a naturally fit body that came from doing nothing but sitting and eating sweets—wasn't life just grand?) and a tingling that traveled up from his stomach to below his ribs, where he had the most god awful pain sometimes. Swallowing, he'd also noticed, had become somewhat blocked, it felt as if something was caught down there…too deep to be pried out—and Merlin was that uncomfortable. In short, Draco Malfoy hated his body and it's constant reminder of the previous nights activities—and the fact that he _felt_ something about the whole tirade.

Malfoy's do not feel. Lesson forty-two. They were stone, cold, and ice. None of these feelings had any right being in a Malfoy's body—let alone _his_ body!

He'd wandered earlier, over the theory that the feelings were merely after effects of the body switching. After all, his fingers felt slightly numb—as if they no longer were his own. It had been an entertaining theory—for about ten minutes. The two idiots, he would never call them by name again, they had proved too stupid for that, let alone the fact that he'd already decided that their lives were ending, most likely sooner than they had planned.

The idiots, he'd thought, had probably botched the spell somehow. It was a rather complex spell and he was still mildly surprised that they had been able to pull it off…or that they'd dared to try in the first place. Knowingly invoking the wrath of a Malfoy (and laughing while doing so), was practically a death sentence, one Draco had no qualms about completing either.

Inhabiting another's body was not completely legal, Draco knew, which was why potions such as the polyjuice had come about. There was something unethical and immoral that had made it, while still legal, highly frowned upon. Of course, that didn't matter to Draco—and it obviously meant nothing to Blaise as well. The redheaded Weasley, however, was something Draco found himself not expecting. She was just as crafty as a Slytherin, and somehow, just as moral-less. Who would have thought that the meek red head, a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake, would throw morals and ethics out the window without thought? He then wondered if she'd ever had those things to begin with.

And what of Hermione…

His stomach clenched and that damn knot in his throat grew.

No, he was _not_ going to think about her. His body started that damn tingling again just at the thought of her name! Using the careful control he'd constructed throughout his years, he vanquished that thought and everything else, leaving his mind blissfully blank.

But that wasn't going to last, unfortunately, as he heard the most peculiar thing.

The sound was muffled, yes, but Draco would know that voice anywhere—especially that raised voice.

Hermione screeching was something he knew intimately.

The sound was indeed, he concluded with a smirk, a yelling Hermione, and for once, he wasn't the one causing that raised voice.

"I told you, no means no, get that through your thick skulls!" Hermione screamed, no longer caring about the textbook in her hand, having decided it was a handy dandy weapon, she threw it at the objects of her rage.

"Just hear us out!"

"Damn Hermione, that hurt!" Ron cried as the book caught him in the shoulder.'

"Serves you right Ronald, now both of you get out of here before I find something to impale you both on!"

"Cousin, just calm down." Charlotte tried once again to approach Hermione, but was brought two steps back by a well-aimed candlestick that had been confidently flying towards her head. "Stop throwing things like a temperamental child!"

"Get out and I'll consider it!" Where was Malfoy when she needed him, Hermione thought scathingly. Her eyes darted haphazardly around the room, taking stock of potential weapons and harmless objects with which to murder her soon to be ex-and dead-friend and ex-and dead-cousin.

The stupid blond haired prat had just known this was going to happen—no wonder he'd made himself scarce. This was all _his_ fault to begin with! And the cowardly imbecile wouldn't even come out of his room to take the heat. Hermione wasn't exactly sure how this was Malfoy's fault, but she'd make quick work of that later. Once these two were good and dead—she'd drag him out to get rid of their bodies.

"Malfoy!" she screamed as she found a nice coaster and sent it off as if it were a Frisbee. "Get your ass out here or I'm going to push you out the highest fucking window in Hogwarts!"

The boy in question didn't move from his bed, cringed slightly (though he'd never admit it) and continued to eavesdrop with a leisurely calm.

"We only want to make a little extra cash Hermione, it wouldn't be that bad."

Hermione's lip curled in such a way that showed she'd been hanging around the Slytherin far too long.

"You want to market off my non-existent relationship with _Malfoy_ are you fucking insane?" she spat scathingly.

Inside his room, Draco's ears perked—if they could have, they would have—he propped himself up on his elbows, eyes trained eagerly on the door in horror.

Charlotte made a small clucking sound. "As Ron said, Cousin, it wouldn't be all bad. I'm sure if you'd calm down a bit, you'd see."

Hermione was mad enough to chew nails. "I see…_cousin_" her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I see how very nice each of you would look in a pine box…maybe you could even share one, I'll just pile you on top one another and slam the lid closed. Then, after I've got you six feet below my feet, I'm going to dance the fucking Macarena over you and then blare god awful rap music at you until you scream for forgiveness."

"Tsk, tsk, dear me, I didn't know you'd be _so_ upset about this."

"Oh that's fucking rich!"

"You didn't use to cuss so much, Hermione—I think _Draco_ is wearing off on you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits, her breaths came in short spurts, and Ron was already backing out of harms way—and luckily for him—in the direction of the door.

"Get out." Hermione hissed.

Ron stumbled slightly, his head whipping around, making a quick estimate of the time required to escape.

Charlotte shot him a look—one that Hermione didn't miss—and Ron suddenly grew a tiny (and believe me, it was tiny) backbone, stopping in his retreat.

Hermione growled, "Do you want a few well chosen, and unflattering pictures of _you_ floating around the school, Ronald? I've got a few…from that night…" Her eyes filled with mocking laughter. "Don't you remember…Ronald…that night?"

Ron swallowed visibly. "N-n-no."

"Oh, I think you do. But let me replenish your memory. There was you…me…Harry…a bottle of vodka, a bottle of firewhisky, and a bottle of polyjuice…don't forget the game of truth, dare, or drink—and then, don't forget about the twins magical camera…or how interested I was in it afterwards."

Ron trembled. "You didn't!"

Draco crawled off his bed, edging to the door. This was interesting.

"Oh, but I did. And I won't hesitate to use them either."

Ron winced and shot a helpless look towards Charlotte, a lost little soldier waiting for instructions.

"Hermione, we've already got the pictures."

Draco blanched…_pictures?_

"We were only going to warn you before we started selling them…and to tell you we might have doctored them…slightly."

Draco felt sick. He'd seen what could be done with photos…he'd done it himself a few times. He was about to step out of his room, confront them all, and risk dying of a heart attack at the sight of Hermione when the conversation picked up once more.

"Oh and pray tell who would fucking buy them?" She glared at her cousin.

Charlotte examined her nails, checking to make sure they were in fighting condition. They were. "I've only been here…a few months and do you want to know what I've found out?"

"Life I've got a choice?" Hermione growled.

"You're learning. Now, did you know, that this things here's brothers have kept book on couples?"

"I am not a thing!" Ron scowled, but didn't move from his spot near the exit.

Hermione took a step back (as did Draco), "What?"

"Let me put it simply, there are bets on who will get together, when, how long they'll last…and a few other things that are quite…" Charlotte's eyes flashed. "Dirty if you get my meaning."

"Are you telling me that Fred and George have a bet running over Malfoy and I getting together?"

"In not so many words, yes."

"Where the fucking hell did that come from?" Hermione raged. Draco grinned, perfect question, he'd like to know the answer to that one himself.

Charlotte shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I wouldn't know anyway."

A curled lip from Hermione kept Ron from adding that they'd also been the ones to start those polls and gambling rings up anew—after hearing whisperings of big money on the Hermione Draco front. They'd been mighty busy since.

"Well." Hermione said tersely. "It all doesn't matter in the least. Malfoy and I are not together, whatever the picture are…" Hermione grimaced. The pictures were a wild card. "As for the pictures, you'll only look like idiots…" Her words trailed to a halt at the look in her cousin's eyes. Oh, Merlin, Hermione grimaced. "I'm not going to let you leave here alive." She whispered.

Draco felt his face pinch in frustration—for some reason, he could no longer hear them. Such a fucking great time for Hermione to calm down. What exactly was going on?

"I've already made a million copies Hermione, of you and Draco in _so_ many amazing positions, we're even thinking of a calendar."

Gray eyes snapping wide open, Draco felt his stomach fall several floors. No fucking way in hell! If there were pictures of _that _night, he'd be the first, and only one to posses them. He thought, hardly hearing the thump that resounded from the common room.

Wrenching his door open he barreled out, before stopping dead in the common room.

"Oh, hey there Malfoy." The cousin of Hermione's grinned. "Nice to see you."

"What the hell are you talking about, pictures, positions, what calendar?"

"Losing composure there Malfoy? Never thought I'd see the day."

Draco sneered, pushing his hair back. "At least I have composure." His eyes scanned the room. "Where'd Hermione go?"

Ron's eyes flittered to the floor, then back to Malfoy. Draco looked and there, sprawled on the floor, was Hermione."

"I think she was a bit shocked at the whole calendar business." Charlotte shrugged. "And, I think it's time we go, right Ron?"

"Yeah. Totally."

Draco, who'd knelt down at Hermione's side looked up, "Oh hell no, you two aren't going anywhere!" He shouted, his wand out as he jumped to his feet. "You aren't going to leave until ever single picture is destroyed or in _my_ possession.

"Make me." Charlotte hissed.

And Draco did.

It was a commonly known fact that no one likes to be upside down for very long—I think it has something to do with the uncomfortable, and possibly fatal, blood rush to the head. Add vast heights, a pissed off Slytherin, a wand, and a conveniently high ceiling and you might understand exactly what Draco did to make them.

* * *

Hermione woke with a splitting headache, unable to help it, a small cry escaped her lips as she sat up, hands pressing tightly to her forehead.

"Hey."

The word was tentative, and Hermione wasn't sure why exactly, or even whom, but she did know that if the light did not stop streaming in, she was going to claw her bloody eyes out. "Light." She moaned, trying desperately to communicate the fact that the burning, mind-numbing pain the light was causing her retinas.

All the thrashing and pointing and

However, she mustn't have been that bad, as the light suddenly dimmed and she cautiously removed her hands.

"Well, at least you weren't out very long."

She squinted in the direction of the voice and caught the telltale signs of blond before letting out an annoyed groan.

The bed tilted slightly as another weight was added.

"Please tell me that the last week has been a dream."

A small chuckle, and then she felt a warm hand smooth down her arm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Sorry to disappoint you. But, I'm pretty damn sure it was all…" Draco trailed off, eyes settling on the closed drapes. He heard another groan, and then felt Hermione shifting, sitting up.

"What time is it?"

"Breakfast will be ending soon."

"And…" Her eyes enquired, while her mouth tried its damnedest to wrap her tongue round the words.

"Don't worry 'bout them." Draco drawled with a careless wave of his hand. "You'll find I can be very persuasive when I'm pissed off."

Hermione eyed him, washing over the way his body just flowed—and quickly beat herself over the head for doing so…and liking it. His body really did flow though—like water over worn rocks. It was a graceful thing—and just as chilling. You shivered when you touched, and there wasn't much short of staying away that you could do.

What she needed to do, Hermione decided, was to throw herself back into her work—get the faux-weddings underway…

And handle everything else they could toss at her with finesse.

But to start any of that, Hermione knew she'd have to get (and stay) at least a good two hundred meters away from the not-so-vile blond enigma.

"Then…" she started, hating the shyness she felt, and the heat that rushed to her cheeks—turning them rosy with embarrassment. "To breakfast?"

Draco smirked at her, beautiful as always and with grace he stood, holding his hand out for her—challenge evident in his shining eyes.

Hermione met it head on, grasping his hand and allowing him to help her up. She briefly attempted to brush his hand away as it settled on her lower back—but thought better of it. He was being the _perfect_ gentleman, by playing the queen of rock ice, she'd only be giving in. So instead, she nodded politely with murmured thanks and watched as he fought the small twitch of amusement that played with the corners of his mouth.

"You can never win." He whispered, his breath hot against her skin—a soft play of moisture that tickled and touched in ways that would normally cause her to jump away, if not for the damn hand that kept her in place.

Hermione huffed at that, and turned so that they were face to face. "Back to never land again."

"I won last time." Draco reminded her.

Hermione acknowledged this with a terse nod and a dismissing look. "That you did. But now I'm on to you…and I've got ammunition this time."

Draco tried hard not to look amused—and failed miserably. "My game?" he let out a quick laugh. "And what pray tell is this so called ammunition?"

Hermione smiled sweetly and pulled herself up, using her hands to better steady herself (and it only just so happened that the rested on Malfoy's shoulders. Complete coincidence, I assure you) and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. It was chaste, a kiss shared between friends and relatives.

Draco felt the pressure from her hands—felt the warmth that spread down his shoulders and through his chest. He could feel her breath, and then…her lips. It was all rather intoxicating and he wondered if he was drugged. Things weren't meant to feel like this—they'd never felt this way before. Surely there was some explanation for why her smile, her walk, her words always filled him with…

All that warmth and all those fuzzy (good for nothing) thoughts evaporated in an instant. Hermione's voice, in all its velvet calm, had spoken the one and only word—name—that could empty his veins of life-blood, refilling them with something close to liquid death.

"Pansy."

* * *

The Great Hall had not been emptied of students—even though breakfast had all but ended minutes before. There was no chatter, no clinking and clattering of silverware. There was no rhythmic chomp-chomp-chomping (a sound that few could decide came louder from a certain red haired Gryffindor, or two voluptuous Slytherin side-kicks) of food being chewed. Instead, there was a simple, lazy silence. One that hinted that the students—young and old, victims or not—knew of the past nights…endeavors, conducted by a rather unperturbed, and slightly uninterested couple.

Blaise and Ginny sat, feigning nonchalance (or possibly not feigning, as they really didn't care and were more than quite happy with their escapades), between a rather irate Harry Potter, and a dozing Miriam.

Harry, much like Hermione and Draco, had not taken kindly to their well-intended prank, but being the kind soul that he was, had yet to kill them. Though that didn't mean he was letting them off the hook—oh no, they were on a hook (deeply so), he was simply providing them with a grace period, if you will.

At the moment, he was imagining them both, in a gory (but happy for him) scene which included the aforementioned hook, and a slow-roasting fire. His inner voice cackled manically—and scared himself just a bit. So he sat there, Ginny to his side, imagining…while his hand twirled the steak knife tentatively. He wondered briefly if the House Elves were a bit too interested in serving his every need. After all, it was a _steak _knife at breakfast. What the hell was he going to do with it? Slice and dice the mush he called egg? Of course, Harry knew what he _could _do with it and his green eyes glinted dangerously before he set it aside (thankfully) a safe distance away.

He wasn't sure why no one was talking, but the silence was not stark, it was comfortable. It was as if, tension that had been building (since the beginning of the year) had eased away…giving them a much-needed reprieve.

The teachers, Harry noticed now, giving his murderous thoughts their own much-needed vacation, looked bored out of their god-given minds. He couldn't imagine that they were having any more fun than the students—and they couldn't even throw themselves in to their work. It was cruel, Harry decided, and completely unneeded. Enough was enough—couldn't the evil nitwits see that they were already suffering?

Trelawney—who for some unknown reason had taken to breakfast like moths to light—was tilting forward, second by second, coming closer to her plate of scrambled egg until they were one and the same. He thought he saw a light yellow, mushy, blob disappear into a nostril—and shivered. That was just disgusting! Harry glanced down the rest of the table, none of the teachers seemed to care that one of their own was inhaling their breakfast via their nose. Snape looked as pleasant as usual, even had his little 'I love life' rainbow pin fastened to the front of his robes. Harry was pretty damn sure that that was a result of the evil genius at his side and her counterpart, the Slytherin scoundrel.

A throat was cleared and the heads of the students lazily turned.

"I'm sure you've noticed certain peculiarities that took place yesterday, Mr. McGale and I want to assure you that it _will_ not happen again."

The students remained silent, their thoughts along the lines of "And we _care_?"

"The culprits…" Ms. Danna was cut short as Professor Snape finally snapped.

"Will be pitted, skewered, and disemboweled! Please…" He continued in his normal snarky tone. "Be in my classroom by midnight tonight, or I will drag your carcasses there."

Harry couldn't help but notice the deep scowl on Ms. Danna's face.

"That is enough, Professor Snape. And might I say—I had such hope in your therapy. I must agree with your new attire. It suits you."

Snape's black eyes flickered to his shirtfront and his lips curled in what Harry was sure a silently muttered curse.

"As I was saying. We are here, to first and foremost _protect _you all from the evils that that lie outside these walls…and inside.

Did that mean that they would be protecting them against them? Harry thought, a smile forming on his lips. He was pretty sure they meant no such thing.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. How nice it is of you to join us."

All heads swiveled to the two, who looked a little worse for the wear—a little bed mussed.

Harry followed Hermione's glare to where it rested on Ginny who's smile stretched from ear to ear. Now that had to hurt, Harry scowled.

Hermione's hardened brown eyes shifted to him, and he watched them visibly soften as she gave him a small smile before starting off towards him. Her steps were confident, as if she had no intent of looking back.

But a certain blond had other thoughts and Harry could see how this one was going to play out. The Slytherin, his enemy, would grab her shoulder…whisper something in harsh, cold tones. Hermione would smirk (mental note to self: spend some time with Hermione as she was around the Slytherin way too much) and shrug. Malfoy would get upset. Hermione would tell him not to cause a scene. He'd get more upset. And then, Ms. Danna would call the two Heads for a brief meeting. _NOW!_ Which would cause even more of a scene. And to top it all off, there would be the grand finally of something concerning Blaise and Ginny.

And there was.

* * *

Charlotte wondered if she'd ever get those brain cells back. She was pretty sure that the fucking blond Slytherin had lowered her IQ by several points—she might even be in par with the idiot redhead beside her. Now, how dense do you have to be to just let someone draw his or her wand and hex you to death? Really, the boy hadn't even twitched and it had been millenniums past too late.

But that was okay. She could deal with him. She could deal with the fact that they were both bruised from the pooling of blood in places blood shouldn't pool. She could even deal with the blond for acting the way he had. But she could not deal with her lost intelligence. OH no, that she could not.

Which is why she, along with pumpkin head, were currently in the dungeons, in a certain room where Neville went to pieces, and in a certain irate teachers personal potions cabinet.

They would be _so _dead if caught, Charlotte knew, which was why her faithful lap dog was here. To fend off said angry potions professor if he showed up—giving her time to escape. And if he didn't show up—then the boy would prove useful in carrying everything she was steeling.

Yes, she valued her brain cells. Each and every one of them—she'd go so far as to name them all. It was important to her, they were all important; she didn't think she could survive each day…

She knew she couldn't survive.

She needed them.

And thus, the loss seriously pissed her off.

Blondie was about to find out it did not bode well to piss one of the Morana.

Or date one either.

* * *

"You wanted to speak with us?" Hermione made herself as comfortable as possible as she was seated next to Malfoy.

Ms. Danna nodded curtly. "Yes, I needed to speak to both of you first, and then just you Ms. Granger. Firstly, I wanted to know if you had any idea who is responsible for cursing us?"

Hermione stiffened. They didn't know?

"You were cursed?" Malfoy asked, his voice full of false concern.

Ms. Danna waved her hand dismissively. "No need for details. If you two know of _anyone _who could be responsible, report their names now."

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know of anyone who would do anything as horrible as to curse you."

You could hear Malfoy's jaw hit the ground and Hermione had to suppress a smirk.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He made an effort to pick said jaw up before nodding, his mask in place. "I'm afraid I agree with Granger. I don't know of anyone who has the balls to hex you."

The psychiatrist's face pinched unpleasantly before she gave a curt nod. "Very well. You are dismissed Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stood languidly and left.

Ms. Danna sat, shifting through papers before folding her hands. "We have made a change."

Hermione blinked. "A change?"

"Yes, the marriage licenses—we've thought of something that will suit the purpose of this exercise better. They have been transformed. As coordinator, I thought it best to inform you. However, you need not inform the other students as they will not notice a change."

Nodding, Hermione asked what kind of change had been made.

"Nothing too seriously. A simple, twist…I suppose you could say. You see, while the licenses will remain—they are less _binding_…quite the opposite, you could say."

"Um…"

"I'm sure, Ms. Granger, that with a little _research _you'll become informed. Good day."

Confusion abounding, Hermione said her goodbyes and stepped from the office.

Did the psychiatrist just give her a _hint_ into their diabolical plot?

Or did she…

Hermione shuddered.

Or did she know something.

She took a deep breath. She had consulting to do today, a therapy session to attend, a blond to avoid, and a cousin to kill. No, Hermione thought, scratch that, research to do, _then _a cousin to kill.

As she walked, she could feel the slight pressure of the amulet as it pressed against her bare skin. She wondered if Charlotte ever felt overwhelmed by it all…

Life had a way of catching up with you—and then leaving you behind to choke on its dust. Choices you had once thought easy made suddenly shed their exteriors to show their true selves. People who you once saw as black or white…suddenly developed patches of gray.

And sometimes, ignited with color.

* * *

A/N: This is only half beta-ed. I didn't want to bother sending off the last part of this crap. So…if you find any mistakes, I take full responsibility. Complain to your hearts content. I also apologize if Professor Trelawney's name is misspelled. If this offends you, please tell me the correct spelling and complain as loud as you want. I'm afraid I lent my Harry Potter books to someone who is more enthused by them than I am, so don't just tell me to go look it up.

A/N 2: While I know where this is going, I hate to say that I've lost a lot of interest in the story—and, pending a huge uproar from you all, the updates will probably remain infrequent. I don't want to give up on it yet, though. So, I'm going to try (TRY) to update every two weeks, not every 3 months.

Please review. Perhaps one of you can suggest something brilliant that will motivate me!

Oh yes, I wanted to ask you all.

Should the story center only around Draco and Hermione, or should I continue giving odd little bits of all parties involved?

So cast your say! If you don't review, you can't complain later!

* * *


	22. Bonds

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**Evaluate This!**

**Bonds**

**Thanks to my wonderful beta! You're always the best!**

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_I have noted that persons with bad judgment are most insistent that we do what they think best. Lionel Adel_

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"So you think that they've done something?"

"No. I do not think, ferret-boy, I _know _that they very much _did _something." Hermione tossed the book _Marriage, Love throughout the Ages_ to the side and opened yet another on the same foul subject.

_Really_, Hermione thought as she hurried through the sections on how to conquer aphrodisiacs, if one more thing in her life went from tolerable to frenzied she was going to be high bent on transferring to Beauxbatons. Screw Hogwarts and screw Fudge, she hadn't learned one thing this year and it was almost Christmas! Her brown eyes scanned the respective pages and she tried hard to dismiss the silver eyes boring into her. He was another one of the elements in her life she had once thought was steadfast and reliable. But _no_! He just had to go and…change things. She still didn't really understand exactly what had changed, or how it was…grr!…_Stop_, she commanded herself_, thinking about that stupid blond haired git and FOCUS DAMN IT_!

Her voice seemed foreign as she spoke to break the ice, to distract herself, to get away from those disturbing thoughts. "I don't know what they did. But she more than hinted that they did do something."

"Why can't it be an actual binding certificate again?"

Hermione growled as she glared at the Slytherin. He didn't even give her the courtesy of responding, only sat there—waiting. "For the fifth time Malfoy, that would simply be too easy and too expected. After all," She adopted the smirk she had learned from rooming far too long with the irritable male. "You thought of it."

Draco huffed, crossing his arms and settling back into his seat and said in his best careless voice, "Be that way then." It got the desired reaction. Heated eyes seared into his.

"You!" Hermione hissed. "You should be just as concerned…" a pause then, "No, you should be scared out of your freaking mind."

"Why's that?"

"Because, you dense blond—I'm really beginning to believe you are a ditz—I'm not the one who's going to be on the receiving end of this. But you, my dear Malfoy, are!"

"Ah."

"AH! What the…" Healthy bodily functions—namely breathing—are called healthy body functions for a reason…because they are needed. Hermione, however, knew that the moment she opened her mouth to breath, she would say something she'd more than likely regret.

Without breathing (talented isn't she) Hermione gathered the texts she'd gathered earlier and stalked from the library, sending one last look over her shoulder, daring the Slytherin to follow. If he had any sense of self-preservation, he would _not_ follow, and if he ever wished to reproduce, he'd certainly better make himself scarce. She wasn't about to put up with any attitude—imagined or otherwise—from him.

Draco waited a good time before lazily setting after her. The corridors were empty thankfully—not that he really cared, but it made it so much easier to locate the sound of angry footsteps. He caught up with her outside their dorm. "Running away seems to be your trademark."

"And being an utter git seems to be yours."

"Look, Granger, I don't know what climbed up your…" Draco trailed off. "Hey, look at this nice spider. Here spidy, spidy, spidy."

Hermione lowered her wand. "You were saying?"

"How 'bout I carry those for you." Draco swiped the books from her before she could respond. There was no way she would hex an unarmed person. "And then we'll go inside, have a nice study-date while we look for what the big bad people might have done to make our lives hell, eh?"

Sighing, Hermione watched him questioningly. He smiled at her, his silver eyes glinting in that 'I really am harmless' way. Her eyes narrowed.

"Oh come off it Granger. I'm actually willing to help for once. Just get in here."

The portrait slammed behind them and Draco dropped the books on the low-lying coffee table.

"See, now you sit on _your _side and I swear I'll be a good little boy and stay on my own."

"The day you are a good boy—the day you are truly worthy of such a title—is the day I marry Ron." Hermione plopped down on her designated side and divided the books. She shoved the other half towards Draco.

"Ah, so all is not well in paradise."

The cover of Hermione's book was flipped open.

"Little Ronnie-kins not doing it for you anymore?"

He saw a visible cringe, but her finger stayed at its task, screening the contents.

"You know, I would have sworn you two were soul mates. You are destined to be stuck in a shack with a bunch of frizzy haired red heads screaming for their bottles."

If he expected her to explode—Draco had sorely underestimated the resolve of one Hermione Granger.

"And you Draco? Bound to follow your father, marry Pansy, pretend to coddle over your poodle of a child and kiss the feet of none other than…" Seeing the red growth beneath Draco's pale skin, Hermione paused. "Should _I_ continue with what I see life has in store for you?"

"No."

"Then, lets just forget you ever started this little travesty."

"So, you and Weasel never really got to it."

"You don't know an easy out when you see one, do you?" Hermione sighed. "If you must know, Ron and I are friends, and Merlin believe me, friends is all we'll ever be." She shivered. "I love him dearly, but…just….eww…it would be like marrying my brother!"

Inside, Draco was preening. He felt as a cat may feel when stroked the right way and it was a delicious feeling. He hoped he wasn't glowing—because it sure felt like a warm haze of golden light surrounded him, softly caressing him and his ego into purring submission.

"Malfoy…are you purring?"

Well, that had the same affect as a bucket of ice water. _Thanks for your subtle ways Granger_, Draco thought as his very blissful mood was ruined. Oh and by the way... "People do not _purr _Granger. I do believe it is impossible."

"So, explain to me the purring sound that was coming from deep inside your chest."

"Do you not understand English? There was no purring sound Granger."

"Oh really?"

"YES!"

"For I could have sworn…"

"GAH! You stupid woman! There was no purring, just leave it be!"

"If you say so, Draco."

"I do." Draco said a little less vehemently than he wanted. He glanced at the titles in front of him. _Surviving Marriage_, _Planning the perfect bond of Marriage, _and _Meld Two Lives to One_. Well then. He flipped open the second. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"I don't know." Hermione said, exhausted. "What can be done to a marriage certificate?"

"Nothing." Draco stated flatly.

"Nothing?" Hermione looked up surprised. "How can that be?"

"Well Granger, seems to me, you don't know much about Wizard marriage."

"I assume it is different from the Muggle way then?"

"Yes." His tone was bored, and he flipped the pages in a careless manner.

His gray eyes, Hermione thought, were the only part of him that actually portrayed the person within. It was true that eyes are the windows to the soul—if you'd only glanced at the boy, you'd never have guessed that he cared, or that he knew or wanted to share knowledge. But his eyes, his eyes betrayed him. They were not uncaring, they were filled with want (oh a want for so many things) and…

If only he'd let himself be, Hermione thought, then he'd be much more pleasant. But that wasn't the Malfoy way, now was it?

"So what exactly is marriage in the Wizarding world? If you say it is so different from my muggle version—explain it to me."

Draco had to fight back the grin that threatened to reveal itself. "Well, according to dear old ma and pa, it is both a business venture and a life time commitment. There is the ceremony of course, where the binding takes place."

"Not unlike my way." Hermione pointed out.

"The binding is magical, you idiot."

"If you say so."

"I do." Draco said plainly before continuing. "The pair is bound to one another. But not just by the presence of witnesses or by whatever god you stand before or even by those promises you both make. You aren't even bound by the certificate itself—it just happens to be there, and thus is important."

"Okay?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The same applies in potions. Some ingredients don't really participate, as they are inactive. Yet, if you were to remove them, the potion would not serve its purpose or function when used."

"Ah. Talking about something you _do _understand now."

"I understand the basics behind wizard marriage, Granger. It is common knowledge…however the likes of you and your half-blood friends wouldn't know it. It isn't part of your culture." He held up a hand to silence her, but kept his eyes trained on her wand hand—in case she went a bit nutty and grabbed for her wand. "I don't say this to offend you, I'm being blunt, yes, but it just is what it is. Culture."

Eyes still dark, Hermione nodded. "Of course." She said coldly. "Culture."

"Um…" Draco's thoughts rushed. Safe ground, safe ground, common ground…shit. "Well, yeah…so you aren't really bound by the certificate, it is just a piece of paper. What counts is the bond, the magic, the spell, whatever you want to call it that you use to bind yourselves together."

"So do I need to go back to the library and look up bonds?"

"No. I think these books will have enough information on them."

"How many types are there?"

Draco frowned. "Well, my parents underwent a pure bond, as they were in love, contrary to popular belief, before the marriage." He smirked at the look of blatant surprise on the Gryffindor's face. "Big surprise, I know. But father is capable of love. As is everyone, whether or not they chose to show it in public, which father doesn't." Or in private, but that was beside the point.

"So a pure bond is different from any other bond?"

"Well, yes. You can't use a pure bond during a marriage unless both partners are truly in love with one another. No potions or charms or spells or anything that mars judgment can be on either person. "

"So you use it with true love and soul mates kind of thing?"

Draco shook his head. "No. True love, Granger and soul mates are two very very different things. The pure bond can be used for true love. However, soul mates…you don't have to love your soul mate. Therein, you can not use a pure bond."

"Huh?"

Oh, a confused and speechless Granger! It was quite a sight to see, Draco liked it…very much. "If people are soul mates and/or one of them happens to be part veela or any other magical creature, a forever bond is used. Mainly because, well, if the pair isn't lucky enough to be fully human, they need each other…" He paused thinking. "But they never have to love each other. Together forever."

"I thought that if people are soul mates that they were meant for each other, like perfect counterparts that fit together."

"And they do."

"But!"

"But, just because, say…say you and I are soul mates. That we are perfect for each other. Even so, that does not make you love me, now does it?"

Hermione cringed. "No. I guess it doesn't."

"People want choices. Being told that you belong with someone. Well, that isn't the best way to start off a relationship now is it?"

"I guess not."

"So…understand now?"

"Yeah."

"Don't sound so freaking depressed."

"Sorry."

Woman, Draco thought. Always acting like you'd kicked their puppy when you tell them their notions of love are wrong.

"So…bonds are really the power behind a marriage certificate."

"Mhmm." Draco yawned. His days were boring, he didn't so much as have classes to take his mind off the endless drone of doing nothing. Nothing. Nothing. It got tiresome rather quick. "Bonds are like any charm or spell you cast. The slightest mispronunciation or too hard a flick of the wrist and you've got yourself something entirely different and unique." Draco dragged a hand through his hair. "That is why no one really messes with these things too often. So much can go wrong and it is irreversible."

"Ah."

"Am I experiencing déjà vu?"

Hermione glared. "Stop grinning like the Cheshire cat and tell me all you know about bonds."

Wondering what the hell the Cheshire cat was, Draco nodded. "Aye aye el Capitan!" Now where they hell did that come from? He'd never so much as heard that phrase…oh! Damn it. He'd picked up those contagious muggle cooties when he was in Granger's body. That had to be it. He glanced over at said muggle and was shocked at the very…Malfoy-ish look on her face. It was enough to make him cringe. "Err…Granger, please stop smiling like that."

The grin grew wider.

She knew she really shouldn't. She should be focusing on important things. Like…like…like…important things. And she should…she should…she should be, err…

Harry and Ron, they would, they would throw a fit…they would be upset and…and…

Hermione knew they'd disapprove. But really, who were they to tell her she couldn't do as she damn well wished to do? Eh? Huh? Huh? Huh?

And right now, she wanted to…

Draco was relatively concerned by now. The longest seconds of his goddamn life had just trudged by and he was still opposite an unspeaking and grinning Granger.

"Hermione? You okay?"

_Oh no, Draco dear, I most certainly am not_. Hermione's cheeks were beginning to ache from the force of her own smile. But it wouldn't leave, it wouldn't. I'm pretty sure it's stuck there, she thought. Oh well.

She knew what she wanted.

And she lunged.

For the first time, Draco was pleasantly surprised and delighted to find himself once again beneath a female body and being mauled willingly.

It was, in a word, nice.

Weren't they researching bonds though, or something…or something? Draco groaned as fingers ran through his hair and warm lips brushed lightly against his.

Bonds? Never heard of them.

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A/N: Just a nice little cute(ish) chapter for all you all out there.

Any of you got any suggestions for types of bonds? I'm open to ideas! I haven't decided what kind is going to be used.


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